Dark Secret
by wrestlefan4
Summary: The marriage was arranged, but his feelings lived else where, in a sinful, wicked place that could be punishable by death. Scandal, lies, deceit, adultery...with another man. Chris/Matt, Chris/? Regal, JBL, Vince, others. Co-authored with Dark Kaneanite!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Dark Kaneanite have started another fic together because we're having so much fun on 'A Melding of Bodies and A Mending of the Heart'. Once again, this is a Matticho fic both of us authoring, it's set in a historical time and is very different from Bodies. We hope you enjoy it.**

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**Dark Secret**

I was up again, another sleepless night. I paced, booted footfalls echoing in the dismal emptiness of my grand stone empire. Even at this time the help wasn't awake, still out in the quarters behind the carriage house where they stay when they're not pandering to my needs. I am after all of a noble family, the last of my blood, and I would expect nothing less than the highest respect from those parasites. The poor disgust me, those beneath me—societies leeches.

I pace some more, my hands clasped behind my back, glancing at the carriage house through the window. Morning has just opened her eyes, barely. The sun is obscured by thick clouds, the sky gray. I can tell the wind is picking up by the way the silvery grass swirls. It looks like rain, which is a safe bet on most days. I would have just stayed in today had this need not been nagging at me more lately than not, gnawing at my mind and more so my body. I had to go to the market today. It was Wednesday, the best day of the week: slave auctions.

Just thinking of such things found my breeches growing tight in certain, more private areas. Sighing I hoisted my braces over my shoulders and found my waist coat hanging over the back of a straight chair. I shrugged it on and buttoned it, smoothing it out. I glanced back to the carriage house and saw Paul striding towards the house, his face still smeared with dirt from yesterdays work, his shirt open, his barrel chest peeking out. My lip curled up in a sneer of disgust as he ducked to enter inside, though at the same time I couldn't help from lustily roaming my eyes over his massive frame. It was then that I made my final decision to go to the market: If I was starting to fancy even Big Paul then I really needed something to appease my appetite. That lustful, sinful, side of me that I kept secret even from the oldest of the Irvine family servants, ones whom had seen me through my childhood. It is not because of my own will to be hidden, but because I must, these things that burn inside of me are strictly forbidden, the consequences none to light should I ever be discovered engaging in such wickedness.

"Sir, will you be traveling to the market today?"

"Yes. I want to go before it rains." I went back to the window, casting my eyes upwards at the heavy clouds. He nodded to me obediently, his large, bald head cocking. I watched as he walked back towards the carriage house in lumbering strides like a great, tamed bear.

Soon I was on my way as my Coachman Adam moved the carriage through the familiar ruts that led into the city. Soon the jarring dirt road had shifted to stone and the horses hooves clicked and clacked against the cobbles, joined with the busy sounds of people bustling through the crowded streets, merchants hollering and haggling, those ungrateful, mindless, sheep barely moving enough to make way. In the square Adam pulled the carriage aside and came round to offer his hand. I emerged and sniffed, shooing him away. The tall, slender, man bowed and moved to the horses which stamped their hooves against the stones and snorted. He was smiling, patting their noses. I found myself watching him in the most inappropriate way as he bent to inspect one of the horses' shoes, and I turned myself away, walking briskly towards the middle of the square where an arena was being prepared for the slave auction. Worriedly, I cast my eyes towards the sky, a drop of rain pattered down onto my creased forehead. I mopped the drop away with a silk handkerchief and headed for the stands.

They filled up quickly, men of nobility and money lined up to view those lesser to be hauled in, sold for what use they may be. Many of these men of high esteem I knew Glen Jacobs, a prominent figure, his head tilted to the side as he spoke with his brother the town undertaker, his one blind, misty eye roaming strangely over nothing. Layfield was also nearby, another prominent man. He was always poised in the front row for these events. If my eyes fell on a piece I couldn't resist, I would be willing to throw down more money than even he. He was speaking to someone else, McMahon. John kept braying laughter like a jackass and tugging down his waist coat, which only kept riding up, his expansive waist too much for the poor thing to handle. And McMahon, he looked absurd in that powdery wig that he insisted on wearing, as though it made him look important. More a fool, is all I saw.

But ah, the auction has started. I keep a close eye on each man who is led up onto the platform, chained at the ankles and wrists. Most do not suit my purposes and I watch disappointed as the hours slip by, hands raising and voices shouting to clamor for a good piece of muscle. The end is nearing and the rain is beginning to drop more steadily, I fear I must depart with only as much as I had when I arrived: nothing.

I slip past people in the crowd, shuddering as some of them brush against me, some just gathered around to watch the proceedings, dirty country people with missing teeth and torn clothing, stinking with the odor of hogs and mud and drawing flies. Nearly gagging, I make my way past them thankfully avoiding any sort of physical contact. Behind me is a clink of metal I recognize as the door of a cage rising and a collective gasp rises up from the crowd gathered round the arena. Slowly I turn, a shiver coursing down my spine even before my eyes are laid onto the magnificent creature that has been brought forth from that steel chamber. My breath hitches in my throat and for a moment I wonder if I might not swoon, as a blushing girl being courted by her first beau.

He stands with shackles clasped around his ankles and wrists, chains hanging between them. His stance is wide and strong as though he is more animal than human, ready to pounce, and I note that is more accurate than not as my gaze glides over his muscled form, slicked with sweat, his chiseled arms rippling as he cries out, a barbaric sound, and tugs against his restraints. He thrashes his head like a beast, his lips pulled back in a wolfish snarl, his dark eyes set aflame, his hair a satiny, raven, main of wild curls. I was so entranced by this creature, that I had nearly missed the bidding and sprinted back towards the arena, pushing through the crowd no longer caring who I was touching I just had to have him, there was no way around it!

I burst through the front of the crowd, my breath coming hard as I shouted my bid. Layfield promptly spoke up, and we were soon in a heated battle, shouts rising higher and higher along with our bids. Finally, wildly, I had to have this man you see—I called out desperately—an insane amount which had Layfield backing away literally. And he was mine.

Adam pulled the coach round and I found myself wishing I had brought Big Paul along to wrangle the feisty fellow because he put up quite a fight which left me breathless, in many ways, my clothes a mess. But even now I couldn't care about such trifling things, my mind was elsewhere and my heart was pounding fast as the carriage lurched over stone and then through the dirt ruts, rain falling harder, faster, turning the ruts to mud. I was not discrete in my glances as we made our way back, I could not look upon him enough—bare-chested and beautiful next to me—I felt I might come undone before we had even arrived. But just as I was considering my breaking point reached, we pulled onto my estate. I could barely wait for the horses to still their feet before I was out, tugging at his chains. His molten eyes fell upon me with instant hatred, a growl rumbled deep in his throat, and it was all I could do to keep myself from tumbling into his lap and tearing away my coat and clothing which was growing stifling hot.

Paul had come round to look over my purchase, and nodded.

"Would you like me to take him out to the servant quarters sir?" Paul asked, his deep voice rumbling as if thunder accompanying the rain.

"No, no." I gasped, leering at the dark man as he sneered threateningly so it seemed. "I—I want to see him inside. Bring him inside." I strode towards the house and could hear the slave attempting to struggle with Big Paul but even for a strong lad such as he, it would be nothing more than useless, as for a mouse to fight a mountain.

Paul dragged the kicking animal into the house and quickly deposited him with a yell and a kick to his back which sent the young man sprawling forward. Paul spat, and cursed at him, showing his arm which sported deep teeth imprints. I was pacing again, quickly pulling off my coat and waist coat, my hands nearly trembling with excitement.

"I'll take care of him. Leave us be."

Paul bowed, and ducked out leaving me alone with my new purchase.

"Get up." I commanded, my voice sounding husky with my need. He stood, backing towards the door, taking quick, ragged breathes. I was completely, painfully, aroused.

"Fuck you!" He snarled, spitting as though an enraged feline, back arching against an approaching foe.

"Now, that wasn't very proper of you." I laughed lowly, advancing on him. "I suggest your full cooperation if you expect to be let loose of those." I pulled out a key which had been given to me, and motioned with it towards his shackles. His eyes blazed fire and brimstone at me, but I supposed for my sins, I was already damned by a much higher authority. His enraged curses meant nothing to me.

"I escaped my last Master, he was cruel, heartless, and I will only escape you as well, fiend!" He lunged at me, and soon we were tussling on the floor, making quiet the scene, but seeing as how he was the chained man and I was freed I had the upper hand. The chains between his wrists were long enough and I grabbed them, yanking his wrists behind his neck and crossing them so the chain wrenched tight around his throat, efficiently putting an end to his air supply. He struggled, gasping, hitching, writheing, beneath me as I tried so horribly hard to swallow my moans, so excited and in pain from this man. I slipped the key into one of the shackles and turned it with a click, the confining metal fell away and he rolled onto his side, clutching his purpling throat, heaving in deep lung fulls of air. I bent between his feet and loosed those as well.

"I am not a harsh Master unless it is mandated, and seeing as how you left me no choice…"

"I will not serve you!" He ground out, his voice cracking, diminishing into a dry cough. "I will not-serve—anyone."

I knelt beside him lifting his chin, running my fingers softly over the thick, crisscrossed scars on his shoulders and arms, and undoubtedly there were more on his back, some of them broken, a telling sign that many had been left when he was no more than a child. He cringed away at my touch, looking up bewildered at the gentleness of it. I felt my face burning as hot embers.

"I'm going to be good to you, as long as you are willing to serve my purposes…without word to the others."

His eyes slanted narrowly, suspicion rising up, and he had no reason to trust me.

"What secrets must I keep?" He asked, his voice near a whisper, weather from said secrecy or from the damage to his throat I was not sure.

Answering him, I pressed my lips to his. He pulled away quickly, so much so that he banged his head back against the stone floor. He scrambled up to his feet, backing into the hearth, swiping his hand over his lips.

"Please, I offer you a fair deal. A roof to keep over your head, food, clothing, the company of my other servants, a hand that is slow to anger, it is an offer fairer by far than most."

"What you offer is damnation—even I know by what means such acts are punishable!" His churning eyes swept over me as I stepped closer to him.

"Then what would you have me do? Shall I take you back and sell you to a cruel Master who would increase these scars upon your flesh…" I was close to him again, close enough to hear his harsh breathing, close enough to touch those old wounds. Something flashed in his eyes, a life time of haunting memories perhaps, and he shook his head, those curls bouncing beautifully around his handsome, stubbled face.

"Can you not make such agreement with one of those which are already in your possession?"

"They cannot know." My words breathed against his lips, and I pushed, and he let me take them again, slowly opening them to allow my tongue entry into that warm, wet cavern. It had been such a long time since I had indulged in such acts. He never spoke an agreement, but by the way our bodies mingled that night, he bound himself to me without words. My inner most yearnings realized in him, my dark secret.


	2. Chapter 2

**DK and I thank you for reading and reviewing! There are multiple points of view in this chapter. They'll be labeled so you know. :D**

**Chapter 2**

_**Katie Lea**_

The coach bounced over the deep ruts leading out the Duke Christopher Irvine's country estate. Why that man could not keep a London town home was beyond me, it would have been so much easier for him to call on me and for me to continue to receive callers. Instead I now sat in a rather musty relic of a carriage next to uncle William as we watched the flat landscape blur by. The whale-bone corset that cinched in my waist had me taking shallow breathes and I entertained the idea of passing out the moment I saw this man, if he didn't measure up to my standards, which he most likely would not. After all, being the only daughter of a deceased Earl had its advantages.

"Must we really come calling on a day of rest uncle?" I whined as I looked over at him. He smiled and looked over at me, his curls flopping boyishly into his eyes.

"Of course love. This marriage has been set long before you even graced our lives."

"Ugh. Arranged marriages are simply not done anymore." I protested; even though I knew nothing I was going to say was going to get me out of this.

"I know poppet, but it was made between two dear friends that wanted nothing more than to align their households." I pushed my bottom lip out into a pout, I knew from experience that my uncle could do little to resist that look.

He smiled at me again and turned his head to the covered window. He pulled aside the light fabric and peered out at the landscape. The swaying of the carriage lulled me to sleep and before I realized it I was being jolted awake by my uncle gently shaking my arm.

"We're here love." He said as he moved to exit the carriage.

With a huff I smoothed out my traveling dress and scooted to the door, taking as much time as I could so that I did not have to see the potentially hideous beast that was waiting for me. The bright sunlight assaulted my eyes and I raised one gloved hand to shield them, my lips quirked in disgust. I heard my uncles' laughter and I scanned around until I spied him talking to a blond man at the top of the stairs. His back blocked my view and I sniffed as the footman; a blond with a close cropped style of hair and blue eyes with the smell of horse clinging to him offered his hand to me. I stepped down and immediately drew my hand from his with a disgusted huff, and started up the stairs, holding my flounced and pleated skirt up just enough so I did not make a fool of myself tripping on the damned thing.

At the top I positioned myself behind my uncle and cleared my throat lowly to let him know that I was there. He turned to me and with a gentle hand brought me around so that I stood beside him.

"Duke Irvine, may I introduce my niece, Lady Katherine Lea of the house of Burchill." I could not do anything more than stand there, rather rudely, and gape at the man in front of me as I tried to babble out some reply.

"Please, I--I prefer Katie."

I could say no more, but only looked him over as discretely as my eyes would allow of me. His eyes were as blue as the sky in the morning and his hair more golden than just blond. His lips were full and his chest wide. With a blush I remembered my manners and curtsied deeply and hoped that I hadn't offended him with my tardiness. As much as I had not been looking forward to this meeting, at least I had been relieved in some sense to see he was handsome. His face alone might make up for other qualities should they be lacking, as most men to me had seemed to be boring and about as personable as a stone.

When I rose I saw him flicking his eyes from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, much like one would do when looking over a prime piece of livestock. He bowed to me, seemingly unimpressed, and then turned his attention back to my uncle. What an offensive man! But he is a very beautiful, offensive man. I was trying not to glare at him, it wouldn't have been "proper" of me, when he spoke again.

"We'll be congregating in the blue parlor. I'll have my footman show you in. I'll be along in a moment. I have an incident with one of my servants that I must attend to first. I apologize for that." He clapped his hands and the blonde footman who helped me from the carriage came scurrying up. "Christian, show them to the blue parlor." He bowed and motioned for us to follow him, a slight swagger in his step.

Any anger that I might have had at the man melted away under his voice and I followed behind my uncle, remembering to seem meek as a lady should, and I thought to myself that perhaps this would not be as atrocious as I had imagined.

_**Chris**_

I left Katherine—Katie Lea—Burchill and her uncle Sir William Regal with Christian and jaunted around to the barn where my newest slave--his name was Matthew--was working. I found him kneeling in the shadows, pulling the nails from the hoof of one of my horses. I sniffed, the smell of animal and dung disgusting, in the back of my mind I prayed it would not cling to my clothing when I went back to entertain the Lady and her uncle, something I was not especially looking forward to. At the moment, my mind was focused on something completely opposite: Matthew.

He pulled away the last nail and pried the dirty shoe away, laying it on straw, and he looked up, noting that eyes were watching him.

"What do you want of me...Master?" The last words came forth in a snarl of sarcasm. I set my face into a scowl at his flippancy. I could not allow such disrespect.

"Matthew, don't be cheeky." I said sternly, advancing on him. He stood and straightened, my breath caught in my throat. In the week which he had passed on my estate I had noticed that he had a habit of flouncing about shirtless, which was enough to scatter my wits. He was a beautiful creature, hot from his work, dark hair falling around his round face. I wanted to feel his rippling muscles beneath my touch again. Momentarily, I had forgotten about my guests waiting in the parlor, I suppose I was not being much of a gracious host, but I had never really been one to be noted for being very cordial to others.

"Come here." He responded with a growl. "Now come, don't be unreasonable."

He backed into the corner and clutched the Ferrier's tools to his chest. His eyes blazed at me; flashing anger and hatred. Even in such the disarray that he was in I wanted him; my breeches tightened as I watched him and I found myself wanting to be rid of them. In fact one of my hands reached down and fumbled the buttons at the side. He saw what I up to and he growled; the sound intoxicating to my ears.

"For one who wants his dalliances kept silent you seem to want to get caught!" He snapped, his teeth bared at me. I came to a jerky halt. He was precise, if I were to take him here in the stable any number of my other servants could stumble upon us. My carefully guarded secret would be whispered from mouth to mouth; tongues would wag and drag my family's esteemed name through the muck and mud. I composed myself and slipped the buttons back through their holes, ashamed that my lust could force me to forget my breeding in the need to have my cravings sated.

"I want you to report to my quarters after you're done with the horses. And for Gods sake man, bathe!" I put as much contempt into my voice as I could so that if anyone had been eavesdropping they were none the wiser.

"And if I do not?' He questioned, his eyes telling me full well that he had no intention of listening.

"Then I will drag you there myself and lock you in the room until I can retire from my company."

"I'd rather spend my time with the hogs!" He spat. The spray landed on my cheek.

I pulled out my silk handkerchief and with a grimace wiped my face. I noted hanging from a peg in the barn the shackles I had purchased him in, I crossed the barn, my anger rising. How dare he, how dare that insolent whelp! He clearly needed to be taught a hard lesson. I snatched up the shackles and lunged at Matthew, wrestling him as his limbs flailed wildly as he fought. Once his balled fist lashed out and struck me, the warmth of blood trickled down my chin as pain shot through my lip, where his blow had met flesh. Both of us were panting, growling, fighting, one of us rather aroused, I snapped the iron restraints onto his wrists and then went for his ankles.

He reared back and his heel connected squarely to my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs, knocking me backwards and almost to the floor if I hadn't been able to regain my balance. Glaring at him and spitting curses, much the same way he was doing to me, I swiped the back of my hand over my crimson lips and approached him again, dangling the second set of chains from my hand. I lunged at him and again we tussled, still unable to lock up his feet which seemed to channel the powerful thrusts of an ass which was unwilling to be shoed. He stumbled to his feet and awkwardly careened backwards, staggering into the beast he was tending to moments ago, it snorted indignantly. With an irritated shout, he rattled the chains linking his wrists.

The space was quiet but for our combined labored breathing and the soft sounds of the horses. A metallic taste painted my mouth and I spat, sweat rolled into my eye and stung.

"Why must you be so mulish!"

"Why should I be forced to partake in your blaspheme!" He shouted back, his lips drawn in a snarl, his dark, damp, hair clinging to his sticky face, his eyes defiant and judgmental as they fell upon me.

"You must because I say it! I am he who holds your fate in my hands, your life, whether it is to be lived well or cruelly, is a choice I have given you but I can assuredly take it away. I give you more than I have been given." My voice ends in a frustrated sigh, not only with him but with all of it, all of it. His eyes seem to soften—just barely.

"What do you mean, comparing yourself to I?" He rattled the chains between his wrists, angrily. "I am the one who is a slave, who was born a slave, who will die a slave! You're a free man!"

"Am I?" I laughed bitterly. "Matthew…" I moved towards him, smearing the blood from my lips. I raised the pair of shackles still in my hands and turned them, watching the links of iron as they moved gently clattering. "Not all shackles are made of iron, not all prisons are made of steel. There are other shackles in this life that bind a man, to which no key will free him." My eyes locked with his and though I tried I could not keep them from glazing with tears, though I refused to let them fall. He was shocked to see them there. With no other words, I unlocked his restraints, and smoothed out my rumpled garments. With a final nod, I turned to go back to the house and I let him be. After all, I had guests waiting.

The brief walk to the house seemed to render time shorter than usual as I tried to fix my appearance. I smoothed out the sleeves on my coat only to notice the smears of blood from where I had dragged my arm across my mouth during my encounter with Matthew. Just thinking about it again set my blood flowing and I had to stop for a few moments outside the door to calm the raging thoughts and gain my composure. With a sigh I pushed the door open and stepped in, schooling my face into a smile as both Lady Katherine and her Uncle William stand. The Lady's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes were fastened on my face; opened wide as if she had seen a ghost. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and I bowed to them.

"I apologize, I have recently acquired a new servant and he has of yet to learn his place." William nodded to me, his eyes glinted strangely in the light of the room. "Please be seated. Such....loveliness shouldn't be made to stand." I motioned to the settee just behind her. She started to simper then and I had to fight away the urge to growl in disgust which welled in my throat. Instead I smiled at her, the motion felt odd on my face; before I turned and engaged her uncle in conversation; my mind ever going back to the dark haired wild cat in my stable.

_**Katie Lea**_

It was simply boring as I sat and listened to them drone on and on about finances and whatever else they spoke of. Is it so hard to find a man who has both a handsome face and at least some shred of personality? I had since tuned them out and just watched the Dukes' lips and wondered what they'd feel like pressed to mine, even sporting a rather nasty split in them, they were lovely. He talked with his hands, and I found myself watching as they moved effortlessly with his words. They looked strong, their long fingers capped by perfectly kept nails. In fact his nails looked to be better cared for than my own. I looked at my nails quickly before pressing them into my palm to hide the ragged edges from where I had chewed them during the earlier ride.

I kept watching him, and noticed that every now and then his eyes flicked over to me. I smiled, batting my dark lashes as innocently as possible. He obviously could not stop thinking about me, and I should not be surprised, my dark beauty is a tantalizing attribute. I dragged my teeth over my lip; turning it a nice shade of red. He quirked an eyebrow at me and I lowered my eyes demurely; he mustn't think that I am wonton. Formalities, they are such annoyances. I heard my uncle clearing his throat and I looked up at him.

"Yes sir?"

"You were asked if you would like something to drink, my dear."

"Yes please."

The Duke called out and the man called Christian came. He leaned down and Duke Irvine whispered in his ear before sending him away with a flick of his wrist. Time had not even seemed to pass before Christian was back; a tray balanced on his hand. Two glasses contained snifters of Brandy and the third was a dainty teacup. I graciously took the offered refreshment, and remembering my manners I forced myself not to grimace as I lift the drink to my lips. I hate tea with a passion.

Duke Irvine seemed to have noticed my dislike and he called Christian back, and whispered something else to him. The blond man was gone and back again quickly; this time a small glass of merlot craddled in his work worn hands. With a genuinely grateful smile I took the glass and sipped at the liquid, relishing the light flavor against my tongue. He and my uncle went back to talking and I just sat and watched, taking in his every breath and word with a racing heart and hitched breath.

_**Chris**_

I could barely wait for their carriage to pull away. The Lady had all the marking of a shrew. As I watched the carriage pull out of sight I noted the sound a neigh on the wind and my eyes turned towards the stables. Matthew was out in the corral, leading the horse he had shoed earlier as he watched to make sure of the fit. My breeches again became uncomfortably tight. I watched as he wrapped his hands in the mares' mane and vaulted up onto her bare back. My cheeks were hotly tinged as I headed back to the house and called Christian to me. I stood facing the window when he came into the drawing room; making sure that he could not see any evidence of my arousal.

"Christian." I called out when I heard the doors to the room open.

"Yes m'lord?"

"I'm going to retire to my quarters, send Matthew to me. I need to discuss with him his earlier behaviour."

"Yes m'lord." His footsteps faded against marble and I waited until I saw him out on the lawn. I shook my head and hurried towards my room; knowing full well that Matthew was not going to come peacefully. I might have been in my room for all of ten or twenty minutes when my doors slammed open. I turned and Matthew stood just inside. His eyes smoldered as Christian stood beside him with his head down.

"Christian, leave us." He dipped his head in my direction and bowed out of the room, shutting the doors behind him. For a few minutes there was nothing but silence and my eyes swept over Matthew's frame.

He had put on a shirt, a simple linen shift that was laced at the throat with wide cuffs. His tan trousers were loose on his legs and his unruly mane had been contained to its que once more.

He shifted under my scrutiny and I smiled, licking my lips as I advanced on him.

"You spat on me earlier." I said lowly as I got closer.

"Aye, and I'll do it again." He bit out, his white teeth flashed dazzlingly against the dark tan on his olive skin. Soon we stood chest to chest and I took a deep breath, not caring that the scent of stable lingered on his skin; it merely added to the intoxicating fragrance which belonged to him naturally.

He did not back away, nor did he drop his eyes and for that I was glad. I do not enjoy weak lovers, I prefer them to have a mind and will of their own. Perhaps it is partly why I do not deal with the 'fairer sex', they are mindless; sub-servant sheep that do whatever they are told to do. I leaned in, unable to help myself, and tried to capture his lips, but he shoved me. With a growl I moved back and held him against the wall, my arm laid across his throat as I glared.

"We've been through this Matthew, you are here for one purpose and only one purpose."

"I cannot, and will not subject myself to this damnation!"

"I'm afraid it is too late to atone for your actions or to deny them. You were damned that first night when you gave yourself to me." I hissed. I captured his lips and forced my tongue into his mouth the taste of him lighting my blood as fire to dry straw. He fought me and pressed hard against my body in an attempt to get away and I could not contain the moan that worked its way past my lips and into his mouth.

His shorn short nails raked at my shoulders, catching on the silken cloth and damaging it; leaving four identical ragged runnels. I all but ripped the leather thonging from his hair, the action sent the ebony mass cascading around us; kissing both our faces as our tongues battled: mine for dominance and his for escape. I felt him give in if only a little; leaning in to my touches and I relaxed my hold on him.

That move was only a testament to my stupidity. He shoved me back and bolted for the door. It was all I could do to grab his ankle and I pulled him down, slamming his handsome face into the floor. Quickly I scrambled over and pinned him down, pressing my groin, alive with aching fire, into his backside. I groaned out loud as he bucked to unseat me, trembling, wanting him more than ever. I could not keep my hands off of him. I ripped at his trousers and my breath came harshly in his ear as continued to fight. I couldn't help but feel as though we were no more than two wild animals scrapping for dominance.

"I promise there is more pleasure in submitting than there is in fighting."

"Then if it denies you your sick perversion then I shall fight to my dying breath!" He growled and managed to flip me over and pin me to the floor.

"Oh, Matthew!" I cried as my chest rose and fell in heavy, labored, breathing. It was all I could do to regain my composure and control, as much as I liked to be the submissive partner, it was not yet the right time for such things. He was still too unruly and he needed to know his place before I could trust him to take me in such a way, though I would have dearly enjoyed it. The look on his face as my eyes rolled pathetically in pleasure was complete loathing. He was obviously abhorred by me, and his unguarded disdain strengthened my resolve. He was not the first man to ever look upon me in such a way, as though I was a low, dirty, creature because of my desires.

We tussled, I connected punches to his face, shouting, reigning him in. I pulled my belt free and secured his flailing hands behind his back as he roared, lion-like in his unchecked rage. He fell back into a corner, knocking an expensive oil lamp from its stand, it shattered over the floor leaving a pool of glistening oil and prickling shards of glass.

"Look what you've done, fool!" I back handed him, hard across the mouth, splitting his lip nearly identical to mine. He lunged for me and slipped on the oil, landing hard. He cried out as glass pierced his skin, cutting his face. I drew him up to his knees and dragged him as he still struggled, to my bed. I bent him over it and yanked his trousers down, taking in the sight of his bare, rounded, ass. He tried to kick and fight me away. I twined my fingers into his hair and jerked his head back, causing him to groan in pain.

"Be still. I will make it quick and as painless as possible, though with the mess you've made, I should be less merciful."

"Fuck you!" He hollered. I mashed his face into the bed linens.

"No, you seem to be mistaken." I laughed. "I shall be doing the fucking on this night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**_Chris_**

Arranged marriages, what rubbish. I sniffed as I got out of bed, my back a bit sore from the rough night with Matthew. I had to see Lady Katherine today despite the fact that I had no attraction to her whatsoever. I would have liked to say different, but I cannot. I have never noted anything worth having in the opposite sex, a trait that has been the bane of my existence. But it is proper to have a woman and father one child at least to continue my blood line and good name. It seemed then that I must for all practical purposes live my life as a charade with the hope that I can stomach her enough to appear believable.

Grumbling to myself, I dressed in my finest—a favorite silk embroidered costume—it was tailored in Paris and very costly, taking nearly a year to craft to my satisfaction. I studied my reflection in the mirror as Christian slipped the precious coat over my shoulders and fumbled with the buttons. So clumsy and mindless, these people seem to me. I shooed him away with a flick of my wrist and he dutifully retreated to a corner where he stood with his hands clasped. He is a good boy, my Christian, even when he cannot seem to button my coat properly.

I turned towards the mirror and smoothed my hands over the rich fabric, flouncing the wide, extravagantly embellished cufDS3fs. The finely embroidered, flowery, accents were laced with silver and gold and glittered handsomely against the rich, blue, brocade. I considered changing it. It seemed nearly too much pomp for that shrew of a woman. Christian watched from the corner of my room.

"What say you, Christian, is it too much for that--" I did not finish my sentence with a word but with and indignant sniff.

"It is quite handsome m'lord." He replied.

"Very well."

"Christian inform the cooks that I'll be down momentarily."

"Yes m'lord." He said with a bow before he scurried from the room.

Yes there was certainly no better help in the land than that of my Christian. I adjusted the cuffs on my wrists, trying to think up some way to make this complete sham of a marriage work. Of course there shall have to be separate rooms, there is no way I shall be able to abide with that harpy in my personal solar.

I turned from the mirror and wandered over to the window and was ready to draw the curtains when my eyes fell upon Matthew conversing with my Coachman Adam out in the yard. They stood awfully close and my lips pulled into a scowl. As I watched though, Matthew lashed out, striking Adams' cheek and then taking him to the ground where they started to tussle. The curtain was gripped tightly in my hands as I watched, my breeches once more seeming a tight confinement. All too soon for my liking, Big Paul came shuffling from the stable and yanked them apart by the scruffs of their necks. They were alike two snarling dogs as they stared each other down, Matthew's shirt ripped open and his chest shining in the early morning sun.

_**Matt**  
_

I jerked from Paul's grip and snarled at Adam's retreating back. How dare he pry into situations that certainly are no concern of his? He knew nothing of my situation, knew nothing of my background. I turned and headed into the stable to do the one thing that calms me; currying the horses. Towards the back was the one animal that seemed to have taken a shine to me, a Chestnut gelding with a white blaze up his muzzle. He saw me and nickered softly as I pulled the stall door opened. I could not help the smile that spread across my face, and I patted his strong neck before running my hand over his smooth coat and muscled back. His brushes were hung on the wall and I took the small hand brush and started gently stroking the bristles down the animals back and sides.

My mind wandered back to the night before. Without realizing it my strokes became harder and the horse sidled away from me, rolling one eloquent brown eye in my direction. I offered it a shoulder shrug and an apology then started to brush again. This time my mind wandered in a different direction, back to the blonde irritant called Copeland. What business of his was it if I hadn't come back to the servant quarters until the early morning? Or what nerve has he to watch me, most likely wondering why I'm walking rather funnily? Most likely I move as though I've ridden a fortnight without stop. _More like been ridden. _I growled and pitched the brush at the wall. The horse was startled, and snorted, pawing at the straw irritably. I petted his nose and let myself out of the stall, my day completely ruined already.

My thoughts still thundered with images from the night, and I growled as I stalked across the fields not having the mind to care where I was going. The thought crossed my mind to wander off but I shoved it aside. I had nowhere to go. My family was gone, my brother and father killed in raid on our village when I had seen a little more than 12 summers. My steps faltered and I stood for a moment and wiped the tears from my eyes as fuzzy memories of my family flooded my senses. My father had been the village cobbler and had raised my brother and I after our mother died of consumption.

Then they had come, burning and killing anything that moved. I should have died, but no. In my cowardice I ran and hid in the stables under a pile of straw. I heard my brother crying out, he screamed for father and I, but I was too stricken with fear to move. Instead I peeked out and watched as my brother was cut down by a rider on a horse, his blood forming a small river in the cobblestoned street. I waited until I thought the riders had gone before I crawled from my hiding place. My brothers body was long since cold and I sobbed as I held him close, damning myself to the fiery pits of hell for doing nothing, nothing. The sound of hoofs striking against stone brought my head up and before I could make sense of the situation I was jerked up by my hair and thrown across the back of the horse. I don't remember much after that, something struck me in the back of the head and everything went back. When I awoke hours later I found myself in a small, dingy, room with nothing more than a thin woolen blanket to keep warm.

Hot tears coursed down my cheeks as I cried with the memories. I started moving again, my years spent in slavery blurred and became nothing more than one giant crack of the whip. I ran my hand over the scars on my shoulders and stomach. My mind told me that I deserved each and every one that I carried.

My wandering soon found me at a small pond. The water lapped serenely at the edges as a duck floated gracefully on the surface which shimmered silver as a looking-glass. Near one edge was a large, craggy, boulder and I dropped down on it, wincing as the movement sent waves of pain coursing through me. It was the physical reminder which drew me from the past and plunged me back into the present. I looked down at the water and growled. I could see my Masters smirking face: his eyes lust filled and his teeth bared as he panted. It was not the first time I had been used as a sex servant, but it was the first time for a man to force such an act. I tried to forget it and cast my gaze downwards.

There at the base of the boulder were pebbles and loose stones. I picked one up and skipped it across the water and startled the peaceful duck into a sudden flight. It did not scatter my thoughts however, they still came back to him and how he had defiled me. Just thinking about his hands on my body made my skin crawl, the way his warm breath ghosting across my neck as he ravaged me; my hands bound and of no use to me, I cannot understand his longings for me. On some deep level I feel pity, not a lot; but some. I can't fathom what it feels like to lust after the touch of another man, a great sin; to yearn one as I long for a warm willing woman; preferably one with a fair face and a nice rounded ass.

I shifted a bit on the rock, and winced again. He had drawn blood from me last night, both from biting and also from the tearing of his rough entry and even rougher usage. My black mood increased tri-fold, it never should have happened and I'll be thrice damned if it happens again. There will be no way that he'll get me back to his bed, lest it be over my dead body. I shall be on my way to hell already for the wrongs I have done in the past, but I will not have this abomination hung over my head again and again. _Is that why you screamed into the bedding last night as your seed spilled forth four times over. _My thoughts snarled at me, taunted me with the memory of that which I was trying to forget.

My face burned red with shame and my hands balled into fists in my lap. I hate that man, I loathe him with every fiber of my being. I hate that man for knowing what to do to make me cry out and writhe against my will. My trousers started to grow tight and I groaned. I will not let his man do this to me, I refuse it! I got up and headed back to the manor, intent on grabbing the nearest maid for a hard tumble in the hay. As I worked my way through the tall grass I smiled, I know perfect one. My steps sped up and soon I found myself back in the yard, breathing hard as I raced to the house and burst into the kitchen.

**_Chris _**

I went to the kitchen and tried to find my favorite maid, a dear woman and a fine cook. I did not see her in the kitchen and wondered where she had gone off to. No matter, at the moment I had more pressing concerns, such as needing to get to London. I scowled just thinking of the long carriage ride, my back was sore enough already without that making it worse. I smiled, the thought of Matthew once again invading my mind. I took my time at breakfast, still noting the maid was missing when I had finished. Perhaps she was off again with Copeland, but the intimate affairs of my house servants was certainly no business of mine. What those lower than myself do with their free time is their business, although when they are frittering away my time, I tend to get irritated. I shall find her later and reprimand her.

"Christian." I called, snapping my fingers and dabbing the corners of my mouth. "Find Copeland and have him ready the horses and carriage, I must be leaving soon."

"Yes Master Irvine." He went away obediently and left me to study the rich threads weaving a fine decor on the cuffs of my coat, wondering if I shouldn't have had the tailor re-do it a second time. It is dreadfully hard to find good service, I swear it.

I must have became lost in my thoughts because it seemed very soon that Christian had returned, alerting me that the coach was readied. Off to London, to meet my doom. I laughed as I settled into the carriage, what else could I do?

I had fallen asleep, but it seemed as though I'd only been sleeping for moments when I was awake again, noticing that the carriage had stopped. The door was pulled open and I sneered down at the footman, noticing that he seemed to be of moorish descent. He wore a smile on his face, his teeth startlingly white against his dark skin.

"M'lord." He said, his accent rather pleasing to my ears.

I only held his hand long enough to disembark from the carriage. I pulled it away the moment my shoes contacted the dirty street, their fine velvet and superior Italian craftsmanship too lofty for these streets.

"This way m'Lord. Lady Katherine and Lord William be awaitin' you in the parlor."

I nodded and followed behind him, noting that he seemed to have a regal bearing for someone in his position. Inside the foyer a buxom young red head took my traveling cloak and my silk gloves and curtsied low before scrambling away. With an annoyed sigh I followed the footman and took in the gaudy ornamentation of the couches that lined the long hall. At the end of the hall was a set of ornate double doors, heavy and dark with intricate carvings. Just before the footman led me through a shudder coursed through my being. I shook the feeling of dread away and stepped through the doors, inclining my head at the footman as he withdrew.

There seated on one of the most revolting pieces of furniture I had ever laid sight upon, was Katie Lea. I managed to keep my well-engrained manners and not wrinkle my nose at her in utter disgust. A grimace would have been appropriate to her appearance, and rather self-gratifying, but highly distasteful. Her hair was pulled severely from her face and it made her nearer akin to an old spinster than a young woman in quest of a suitor. In the corner with a sniffer of Brandy was Lord William looking quite dapper in a coat of velvet, colored a royal shade of violet and accented with gold detail. He broke into a grin and moved forwards in greeting, offering a drink.

I waved away the alcohol. I did not wish to dawdle here any longer than I had to this day. It was bad enough that in the coming weeks I shall have to be housed in London, away from my country estate, while the banns is posted. Lord William nodded his head and took a seat in a chair adjacent to the settee; another horrid looking piece that I wouldn't have let through the door if it were my home. The dowry was brought up, not a substantial amount but a nice tidy sum that I'd put in an account for her to spend as she seen fit.

As we conversed I oft caught Katie Lea staring openly and I had to hold my tongue, it just was not proper to admonish a lady in public; no matter if she was even your wife. The word wife sent a shudder through me. I could just call it off, state that there was some flaw that made her unsuitable for me. After all I am a Duke and I honestly have my choice as to who I want to marry. Problem was that even I wasn't that shallow, the poor girl would be ruined for life if I called it off. After all if a Duke finds fault with you then you carry that black mark against your family name for life. Even more importantly, I needed an heir, and the names 'Regal' and 'Burchill' were two very respectable houses. I would be wise to align myself with such names.

"We'll go put in for the banns on the morrow then." William said with a nod as he drained his glass and pushed a lock of hair away from his face.

"Then I'll be here in London by the end of the week." I said as I wondered if the family town home was still staffed. I stayed as long as courtesy permitted before bidding them goodbye, my mind already back at the house.

When I arrived home I went to find Matthew immediately. Traveling home my mind had replayed over and over the altercation I witnessed earlier from my window. I wondered what he and Adam could have possibly fought over. I was not going to have that pigheaded ruffian brawling with my trusted footman who had seen many days of exceptional service to myself and my family. I found Matthew in front of the barn, leaned on the weathered boards, as my best maidservant blushed up at him. She fixed her skirt with one hand and patted her hair with the other. As I got closer I noted Matthew looking quite disheveled as well and both of them were covered in straws of hay.

"Ms. Hughes." I cleared my throat and they both noticed I was there her blush deepened to the fiery color of her hair. "You are needed in the kitchen." I bit out, scowling at her. She curtsied and with a quick 'yes m'lord' she was off towards the house leaving me alone with the dark stallion.

He on the other hand, showed no respect to me and I was wary to expect it. He was not yet properly tamed and I wondered how severe my hand would have to strike him to set him in his place. His molten eyes narrowed at me, ever suspicious, and he stepped back into a stance as though ready to fight at a moments notice.

"Please, calm yourself. You are mistaken to think I wish to spend all of my waking hours tussling with you I--"

"I'm sure you have much more pressing matters, such as powdering your nose or straightening your hair."

I stiffened, how dare he interrupt me? And out of habit my hands went to my hair gently touching it and he snorted, as though he had surely proven his point.

"Disrespectful, insolent, dog!" I shouted and stepped towards him, my hands fisted and my face twisted into an unhappy scowl. "When I speak to you, your lips are to be as if buttoned together. If I do not tell you to speak, then you do not!" I huffed and straightened my coat, then continued on with what I had come for, all the while hating the smirk that played on his lips as though my threats were no more than empty words to him. "Now, you will tell me what I want to know of you. Why did I look this morn out of yonder window to see you fighting with my footman, Copeland? I assure you that such behavior is not tolerated in this house."

"Well then _M'lord_," It was said in a high pitched parody of the maidservants voice. "You need to tell your other slaves not to question me when I have no say over how long I'm kept at night sometimes." He bit out. I stiffly nodded my head, he had a point but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

"The reason why is a moot point. There is to be no fighting amongst those in my service. As of now not only are you regulated to Stable duty but you are to assist Christian in his valet duties." My eyes lit from within as a thought flashed through my mind. "In fact when I go on holiday to London you are to accompany me as my valet."

His face started to turn a dark shade of crimson and he pushed away from the barn. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. A momentary flash of desire coursed through me, but now was not the time to give in to it. I forced my countenance to hold a scowl as I continued.

"I will not speak to you again on this matter. If I happen to see or hear about any more altercations between you and anyone on my staff, I'll be forced to take more drastic measures. Do I make myself clear?" He remained quiet, his eyes flashing with fire as they locked with mine. "Straighten your clothes and come with me. You are to help Christian pack up my things for London."

I flicked my wrist at him and swaggered away towards the manor. He followed a few paces behind, I could tell by the grumbling. I walked through the kitchen and stopped, a group of my female servants were huddled around the stove fussing and giggling and one of them looked up at Matthew as he walked past, the intention of her gaze very clear. I found myself growling lowly in my throat, and snapping at them all I demanded them to disperse and get on with their tasks or they would all face my wrath.

I stormed up the marble stairs to the library and paced in front of the tall, arched windows. Down below in the yard I could see Big Paul as he hoisted an axe and chopped a stump, his wide back bare and dirty. I pulled my eyes away, too upset and angry to think of anything else but the flock of women who had been gathered in my kitchen, all of them talking of my Matthew and lusting after him, wondering which of them would be next to tumble down with him in the hay. I wanted to throttle the next woman to lay with him. I knew it was inevitable, but I did not want him touched. He was mine, and I wanted him for myself alone. _Jealousy. _Why should I feel jealousy over that beast, he is no more than an animal.

My eyes roamed over the rows of bound books lining the walls of my library, my eye fell onto a gleam of gold embossing against a thick spine: _Holy Bible_. I swallowed hard, knowing that inside that book lay eternal damnation for my feelings and desires. My eyes filled with tears and with a cry I sank into a wing backed chair and brought my fists down on my thighs. Maybe I elevate myself to too high a status. After all, I have undoubtedly disgraced my family name again and again by lying with another man, even though it be in secret. Perhaps I too, am no more than an animal.


	4. Chapter 4

**DK and I thank you for reviewing. We own nothing, so sad! **

**Chapter 3**

**_Chris_**

I swaggered around the town home inspecting every nook and cranny, bringing to attention everything that I did not find suitable--which was quite a long list. Christian took it all well, as I would expect of him he is a fine man, but I caught Matthew rolling his eyes at me a number of times. I supposed I was just going to have to settle a bit, after all, this place was not the same as my beloved country estate where I would much rather be, not having to fret over courting a woman in whom I held absolutely no interest, other than practical ones that were socially required of me.

With a sniff I turned and stared at Christian, the slightest hint of a smile on my face.

"Christian, I need you to run a letter to Ms. Burchill for me, letting her know that I've arrived and shall be dropping by sometime on the morrow."

He bowed deeply and I clenched my teeth when Matthew rolled his eyes again. He was wearing my already thin patience to its breaking point and I feared that I might strike him or worse; that I might forget about Christian being present and take him mercilessly until the tightening of my nerves eased themselves.

"Do you want me to take Matthew m'lord?" Christian asked when he arose.

I looked over and I could practically see the pleading in Matthew's brown eyes. For a moment I thought about keeping him there with me; to partake in some carnal pleasures of the flesh before setting about the utterly boring duties I have to fulfill before the sun arises tomorrow. But I have other things that need to be done without having to fight with the dark eyed devil.

"Yes, take him. Show him how a valet is supposed to act." I said bitingly with a flip of my hand in their direction.

I left the two men standing in the parlor, Christian talking to Matthew in low tones as he explained what they were about to do. I thought I heard the tell tale whisper of resentment in his voice but dismissed it. Christian was too good a man to fall to such pettiness; it was probably no more than my overworked imagination which placed the hateful tone to his voice.

I retired to my room, calling for the butler to bring me the calling cards and missives that had been coming in nonstop since I had arrived here. Tonight was a night of settling in so I discarded those and looked instead at the ones for tomorrow and the night after. There was one from Layfield, another from the Brooks's, and of course the annual ball thrown by the Calaway-Jacbos's. It seemed strange to me, that two men so steeped in death always had the most coveted ball invitations. I had no doubt that Ms. Burchill was looking to attend one so I sent out affirmations of my attendance to Layfield and Calaway-Jacobs. Surely flaunting me at one of their balls would suit her feminine need to rub the other debutants' nose in the fact that she didn't have to bother with wagging tongues if she did not have suitors lined up after the first ball of the season. After all, how many could say that they landed a catch as fine as myself. With a self satisfied smirk I turn my attention back to the pile in front of me. There were too many balls for any one person to attend so I picked out only the cream of the cream of the crop. After all, not everyone can be blessed with seeing me grace their halls with my presence.

My mind already drifted to my wardrobe, thinking over what to wear. I imagined Lady Katie Lea corrupting my splendor by dangling from my arm like a gaudy bauble. Not only did she give the impression of a shrew, but a shrew with detestable tastes. To marry her I would surely have to stock up on spirits just to crawl into bed with her, and then awake to her again in the morn. I do not even wish to entertain those kinds of thoughts!

Still it was an unfortunate situation that I had to address, and soon for surely she was expecting a wedding night full of impassioned groaning and sweaty skin slipping against one another as hands gripped and groped. I shuddered, not realizing that in my horrible day-dream I started to scowl. I screwed my eyes shut and shook my head, my loose golden hair flying out around me. Three weeks, nearly a month didn't seem all that long to me. Perhaps I can set the date for later, much later. Although I must confess to myself that I'll never be ready.

The invites and missives fall to the wayside as my brain tries to think of a way out of this even though I know that there is none. As the darkness starts to creep in, both in the windows and in my mind there is but one bright spot that stands out. Matthew. Even in his hate I take what pleasure I can. If only he knew how he sets me free and how just the sight of his strong back and well muscled arms set me a fire. I purse my lips and growl to myself, chastising myself for entertaining thoughts only entertained by weak minded females. Matthew is nothing more than an ends to my sexual frustrations, nothing more nothing less. After all, I've found myself watching Big Paul, Adam, even Christian from time to time. Matthew is nothing special. And yet as that thought crosses my mine I know it is a lie.

Would it even be possible for me to feel something more for Matthew? The same kind of love harbored between a man and a woman? Surely not, that is completely absurd. I feel nothing for him nor have I ever felt anything for another man really deep, within my heart. The feeling that stirs in me is purely from another, further south organ of mine which is a source of constant frustration. Fisting my hands I get up and begin to pace again, words I have heard preached since childhood plaguing my mind. I did not ask for these desires, I did not ask to be different from other men. This—this plague has been thrust upon me as an unwilling burden. Yet for it, I am damned to hell.

Time continues to slip by slowly, and soon I hear Christian and Matthew conversing in the hallway. Matthew says something smart and in retaliation I hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by Christian reprimanding him. As much as the sound reverberates through my person I know I can not go out and bring Christian to task for it, he was just doing what he was told; teaching Matthew how to be the type of valet that a person of my high public statute requires. The voices fade away and I sink down onto the bed, my head pounding so hard that it feels as if it is going to explode. Wearily I drop back onto the soft down mattress and close my eyes. The rest of the missives can wait until the morn.

_**Katie Lea**_

"M'Lady." It was said softly, with that distinct tropical accent, but I still heard him through the partially open door. I turned, trying to school my features into a softer version of the snarl that has been there since Duke Irvines' lackeys had dropped off his calling card.

"Yes?"

"Your uncle be a'waitin' for you in the dinin' room." I nodded and stood, smoothing the wrinkles from the satin top layer of my day dress. More than likely he wants to bore me with details of how I'm supposed to act and what I'm supposed to say in front of my betrothed. _As if I care, I'm stuck with him no matter what._ I snorted, causing Kingston to turn and look at me.

"Is there somethin' you be needin' M'lady?"

"No, Kingston, t'was merely a sneeze." He bobbed his head and finished escorting me to the dining room--as if I don't know my way. He held the door open for me and bowed deeply as I passed. There was no way around it, I was certainly going to take Kingston with me when I leave this place to start my life as Duchess Irvine. I highly doubted that that prissy dandy employed someone as obedient as him.

My Uncle bid me to sit, and with an eye-roll I did so. He frowned noting it, as if I did not want him to. Uninterested I looked down at my nails as he spoke and picked at them.

"Katherine, love, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, yes of course Uncle."

I conveniently drowned out his words as he rambled on, trying to make sure his niece is the proper lady. Perhaps in public, but in private I could not care less for the frills and rules of this high society. At least with Duke Irvine, I gathered the feeling that I could be the one to wear the breeches--so to speak. I doubt he has a real back bone, he strikes me not as the most brazen of men. In fact, he strikes me as they type who would fancy powdering his nose rather than getting foxed with the boys over brandy as my Uncle had been known to do on occasion. And, at least his name was good an honorable, and wealthy. Those benefits I supposed, should not be so casually dismissed.

After awhile my uncle dismissed himself, no doubt he had something going on at the club that needed his attention, some fight or some wager he must oversee. I wished that just once he would think to take me. A fight was surely more entertaining that sitting around all day as I worked my fingers to bone on needle point. With a sigh I got up and wandered around the expensively furnished room and stopped in front of the window. I peered down into the street.

My eyes suddenly lit up when I saw a familiar form striding towards the house. Forgetting any manners, I shrieked and ran for the door, holding up my skirt lest I trip over it an make a mess of myself. I wrenched the door open before he could lay his hand upon it. I threw myself onto him before he could say a single word.

"Paul!" My brother, that louse, had not even sent word that he would be returning!

Paul wrapped his big hands around my waist and urged me back, looking me over with a smile curving his lips.

"You've certainly grown into a fine young woman." He nodded approvingly. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into since I've been abroad?"

I rolled my eyes and produced the note Duke Irvines' messengers had placed in my hand.

"Well brother, it seems as though I am to be married."

Pauls' face fell as he took the missive and read it over.

"Married you say? When did this happen?" He looked at me hard, his eyes centering on my stomach. I laughed and smacked his arm, knowing what he was thinking.

"Apparently our dear parents betrothed me to the heir of their good friends. Uncle posted the banns this morn." Paul scrunched his nose in thought, his brow furrowed.

"The Irvines? Does that ring a bell?" His eyes widened and he looked at me, his mouth agape. "The Irvines? As in Duke Christopher Irvine?"

I nodded my head, and remembered how Christopher and Paul had never gotten along, I never knew why but it seemed to be as if they were like oil and water. I sighed, thinking back to the few times we had met. A couple of them were blurred by the touch of time, I hadn't been to old then and he was no more than the bratty blond that took my favorite doll. Of course Paul, being the protective big brother he is, had gotten her back and returned her to me; after pummeling Christopher first. Paul had seemed to take an immediate disliking to him, although he never really told me why.

"I know, now how about you take me down to the club so I can watch the boxing matches?" I began with a pout. I knew full well that Paul could never resist my pout. Instead of obliging me that insufferable cur laughed and plopped down in my abandoned chair.

"Katie, you know I cannot do that. The club is no place for a young lady, and neither is watching two puglist trade blows." I stomped my foot and put on my best hurt face.

"But, but brother. Please?"

"No!" He laughed as he stood again. "How about we take a ride through the park. I hear it's rather lovely this time of year and if I remember right, you love to be astride a horse." My anger slowly lowered, damn him, he knew my weakness.

"Fine." I said petulantly as I flounced off, my dark hair swinging out behind me as I left him to his thoughts.

It was a beautiful day for a ride through the park, I had to admit, as Paul and I took a winding path at an easy pace. I was too glad to see him again anyway to be truly upset about the boxing. My brother had been gone abroad for so long and of course now that he was here I was asking him question after question and listened intently to every story he would tell me, begging to hear some of the seedier ones, which he refused. Soon he went quiet, and then turned the questions on me.

"And you, Kaite...what do you think of Duke Irvine? Do you fancy him?" He laughed, I must not have hid the expression on my face as well as I had intended.

"He's a Duke." I answered flippantly. "I suppose it could be worse."

He laughed and ducked his head.

"You're right about that Katie, it could always be worse." He sighed and looked over at me, grinning widely. "You're one of the lucky ones." He reached between the horses and patted my arm. "You're betrothed to a Duke. Just imagine Katie, you'll be one of the most powerful women. Only the Queen has more power than you."

"I suppose you're right Paul." And after all, being a Duchess did sound rather lucrative.

We rode along in silence, Paul lost to the thoughts racing through his head, whether they were full of hate for my betrothed or of his travels and I wondering what I would have to sacrifice in order to live peacefully with my husband. I had the niggling doubt that he'd take up residence here in the city so that I am entertain, but atleast when we were married I'd have free reign of the land and could roam as far and wide as I wanted. With a half smile I thought about asking the dark haired Matthew to accompany me; he seemed to be rather...knowledgeable when it came to horses and what not. In fact the look in his eye let me know that he was knowledgeable about many things, some that made my blood run hot. Then there was the blond Christian, he never took his eyes from me the entire time they were delivering the missive. Perhaps even if my husband is a bore I can find other things to...entertain me.

_**Matt**_

Christian and I headed back to Duke Irvines town home with myself trailing a bit behind, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my trousers as he kicked at pebbles in the street. Christian glanced back at me raised a brow.

"Don't lag, Matthew."

Grumbling I quickened my pace and caught up to the willowy blond and watched him as he smoothed his jacket.

"So, Mr. Cage, what exactly does a valet do?" I asked him in a voice clearly laced with lack of real interest.

"Call me Christian, Mathew, if you do not mind it." He began, and I nodded. "As for the duty of valet, it is varied. It is a trusted, respected, place to hold and I am honored to have such a place in Master Irvines' fine household." Christian sniffed and seemed to scowl at me for a moment, but then his features were righted again. "I assist Duke Irvine with his morning routine, dressing, taking him to breakfast, errands, traveling with him. Some valets even assist with bathing, although Lord Irvine tends to be private with that task, he has never required my assistance for it."

I shuddered at the thought of having to dress that--that--pig every morning and god forbid it--bathe him even!"Mathew?" Christian cocked his head oddly at me. "Are you ill?" I could help the smile that curved my lips. _I am not ill, our Master is the ill dog whom you should scowl at, not I. _"No, I'm fine." The rest of the stroll back we both kept silent. Christians' brow seemed to be furrowed as he watched his feet. His thoughts I could not tell, nor did I care to decipher them. They were of no interest to me and besides I had musings of my own roiling my mind as we approached the Dukes' town home.

We entered from the back as Christian explained that even though we are thought of as the highest of the high when it came to staff hierarchy, we still were not permitted to use the front door. That was for guests and of course the Duke and his soon to be wife. The news that he was getting married was a shock to my system, yet it made me smile. Maybe if my Master found that he could take pleasure elsewhere then my services would no longer be needed and I could just melt back into being stable help.

We moved about the kitchen, Christian once more droned on about how the Duke had to eat at exactly on time or else he tended to get antsy and hell hath no fury like the Duke antsy. That last line made me smile, Christian had no idea what his sweet, kind tempered master was really like and all it would take was one word from to shatter that illusion. Still as I opened my mouth to lay his master's deeds at his feet I stopped myself. I had given my word to keep the secrets of the lecherous man, and while I did not approve of his actions and hated him dearly I couldn't bring myself to betray the confidence that he had entrusted me with.

"Come Matthew, there is still more that I have to show you." Christian swept from the room and I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at his retreating back, although as we ascended the stairs I gave into the childish gesture; it made me feel a little better about this newest burden that the Duke had placed on me.

At the top of the staircase Christian turned to me, his eyes serious as he launched into how the Duke liked to have his bed made. I widened my eyes, surely he did not think that I was going to go and straighten up a bed that his royal ass Duke Irvine had slept in when the man was capable of doing it himself.

"You must be jesting with me." I scoffed as we started down the hall, stopping in front of the Duke's room. "It is a joke that I should coddle a man that is old enough to make his own bed." The sentence resulted in a sound slap across my face.

Dumbfounded I raised my hand and pressed my fingers to the stinging area, amazed that someone had dared strike me. I balled my fist, it was deed that wasn't going to go unpunished, but Christian had already turned from me and was talking about the duties that were soon to be placed on my shoulders.

"I can only assume that he plans to install you here so that when he comes to London he does not have to bring me along and leave the country estate without proper supervision." He sniffed as he turned to face me once again. "But I think that he would be better off hiring some urchin off the street, than trust this to you."

I growled and wanted nothing more than to smash his face but I supposed that the 'kindly' Duke Irvine would take exception to me maiming his best slave.

"Well I would rather he did that too, but alas none of us can have what our hearts truly desire." That statement seemed to confuse him, yet I did not elaborate. I just turned on my heels and headed back down to the kitchen to search out some pleasurable company to fritter away the time with, seeing as how my favorite maid had been left behind. Cooking at the stove, I noted a dark haired young woman, short but rather cute, and I sided up to her. I slathered on all of my charm and very soon she was blushing. Later I hoped, that would not be all she would be doing.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for reviews! DK and I appreciate it!

Chapter 4

_Chris_

So tonight was it then. Lady Katherine and I were to be off to the first worthwhile ball of the year, the Layfield annual ball. It was sure to be full of extravagance, fine, brilliant colors adorning pink cheeked maidens as they were twirled by men with painted on smiles. The scene would surely seem all to perfect as if the couples gracing the sparkling dance floor were no more than tiny dancers spinning atop a fantastic music box, as though life was that simple.

Sighing, I looked over my wardrobe as Matt and Christian both stood behind. Christian offered his opinion on various things when I asked, and Matt grumped as usual. Bloody hell! Could that feisty stallion not be cooperative for a moment or two perhaps? A couple of times I heard Christians' palm connect with Matts' flesh, drawing a growl from the darker man, and sending fire through my body. I almost dismissed Christian at the second slap, I thought of using the excuse that I would teach Matthew myself how he was to behave. Now, however, was not the time for such things so I bit into my lip and tried to clamp down on my impulses.

I was not having so much luck with that, as my mind wandered from what to wear and the colors of the rich fabrics blurred as I imagined throwing Matthew onto my bed and tasting him, touching, hearing the sounds that he makes and making those sounds with him.

"M'Lord?" Christian asked lowly, snapping me out of my lucid day dream.

I would have turned on my heel and barked at him, I would have shown him the scowl that was crossing my face, but as of now it was in my best interest to stand with my back towards him...until I could calm myself.

"Christian, go tell Adam to ready the carriage." I heard only one pair of footfalls heading towards the door and some shuffling behind me, letting me know I was now alone with my prize man. The things I wanted to do to him had my mouth going dry, my tongue felt numb and heavy inside my mouth, and I struggled for words at last getting out one.

"Matthew." I barked, beckoning him to me and swallowing hard before being able to go on. "What thinks you of the royal purple velvet?"

I still had not turned to face him, knowing that if I did I would give into my impulses and right now was certainly not the time to do so. He stayed quiet which prompted me to turn a little to pin him with what I hoped would be a glare. He was standing so the light from the gas lamps cast half his face in a shadow, making the lines of his strong features seem chiseled beautifully from stone, his eyes so dark and glimmering as deep, untouchable depths, his wild curls tamed at the nape of his neck, his head bent towards the floor.

"Matthew." I prompted, growling more this time. He snapped his head up, his chocolate orbs burned with hatred and he bit down hard on his thick lower lip which at this moment I wanted pressed to mine. The simple action nearly wrenched a whimper from me, but thankfully I managed to cover it with a sigh. "Well Matthew?" I choked out.

His jaw worked silently for a moment before he dropped his eyes back to the ground and spoke.

"I think that whatever you show up in would be overkill for your fiancé. It is she who should be adorned in silks and velvets as bright as the feathers of a peacock, not you." He brought his head up again and our eyes locked as he continued. "Yet what I say has no bearing on this conversation, you will do and wear what you please. So go on and wear the purple velvet, for it does bring out your eyes!" His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his eyes wide as he realized what he had said. Without another word he dashed from the room, leaving me standing there doubting my own hearing.

Surely he had not made such comment, or perhaps it was laced with sarcasm that I had not noted, my senses clouded by my own arousal. Shakily I chose the purple, and dressed myself, running my eyes over all the details in the mirror. It did bring out my eyes, and the blush that had painted my cheeks as I began to think of impressing Matthew rather than Katie Lea who my focus was to be on. My intended wife was certainly what needed to be on my mind, not this lowly, animalistic, unruly servant of mine. But still, he remained plaguing my thoughts even though I literally shook my head in attempt to clear it.

Disgusted I went to the dresser, a ceramic pitcher and bowl were placed there, and shakily I poured some water and splashed my face. _Please stop._ I pleaded with the thing inside of me that made these feelings persist and not just persist but seemingly increase. Damn it. God damn it!

"Sir, Copeland is ready for you." Christian said, ducking back into the room. His eyes shifted over me cautiously and I sensed that he was forcing the smile on his face. "You look most handsome, M'Lord." He straightened the cuffs of my coat and fixed the buttons I had done up wrong in my bothered state. His hands softly roaming over me had me shifting from foot to foot, fidgeting beneath his touch."Perfect." He brushed a lock of hair from my face, and even that was enough to make me shiver.

"Enough!" I did not mean to shout at him, but I did. He shrank back a bit and offered a lowly apology.

"Christian, it is no fault of your own." I offer lamely. "Matthew and I had a disagreement..." I trailed off and thought of how Christian was going to reprimand him again with a stiff slap.

"I do not doubt it m'lord, if I may be so bold as to say, that unmanageable cur is better off in the stables shoveling dung, not gracing the hallways of the estates and catering to a fine man of your standing. He will surely never learn his place. Perhaps a good, sound, whipping would change his mind, but I have my doubts."

_A good sound whipping, oh Christian, perish the thought! _My breeches became insufferably tight and my head was throbbing with pain. The ball seemed more and more like a tedious chore rather than an entertaining social gathering of the elite.

"Perhaps." I offered out as a choked response to Christians' suggestion. I must get myself in line or he shall start to wonder and worry over me and I need not be tempted to confide in him, as much as I longed for it. I had doubt that even a good man such as he could hide the look of repulsion that such secrets of mine would surely produce if he were to know them.

"Would you like for me to have him reprimanded whilst you are away tonight?" The tone in his voice instantly has my guard up.

"N-no. Perhaps if he does not settle down into his new role in the next week, then we shall take up the reigns of his discipline."

Christian nodded and I waved him away. I needed just a few moments to get myself in order. Obediently and with a bow he backed from the room. If only I could count on him to keep my secret I would lay it upon him now, it is such a heavy burden to carry upon my shoulders, and more so upon my heart.

Trying hard to forget my situation, I went to the basin and once more wetted my face and took deep breaths until the tightness in my loins receded. Once I was able to walk without a limp I headed for the door. Out in the hallway my boot steps fell dead. Matthew was at the other end of the corridor and had my cook up against the wall as he ravished her mouth and his hands roamed her petite frame. I wanted to look away, but I found myself intrigued by the tableau, and even a bit jealous. His hands, after all, belonged to me—and _on_ me. Her panting filled the air when he pulled away to nip at her slender neck, and I snarled--unable to help myself.

"Matthew!"

They sprang apart. Matthew stared at me with heated eyes that I wished--no I craved for him to look at me with, and she with a red face. "Ms. Piper, get you to your quarters for the night! I shall deal with you in the morning." She curtsied and all but dashed away as her mop cap fell off of her head as her raven tresses trailed behind her like shadowy fingers.

"As for you Matthew, await me in my chambers. I shall deal with you when I return."

He growled and for a moment I thought he would not heed me. Part of me prayed that he would not so that I might have the excuse to lay hands on him. But at last he stormed past me and into the room, slamming the inner chamber door.

_Katie Lea _

I waited in the front parlor and watched as my uncle refilled his brandy sniffer for the third time. We were both dressed to the nines. I wore a gossamer creation the deepest red, almost blood like in its deep coloring. The cut was rather daring, and my uncle certainly did not approve, but if I am to be married to a foppish dandy then I wanted his tongue and all others to hang out when they saw me. I was after all a woman fit to be lusted after, and it pleased me to see that lust dance in the eyes of many men.

As for my hair, it was done in a simple up sweep and dark tendrils framed my face. It gave me a rather exotic look which I expected would turn heads, and surely it would impress the stuffy Duke Irvine.

I supposed I should have been happy that I was betrothed, after all with my coloring I might have had a difficult time finding a suitable match, for I am not blond with blue eyes and cream white skin as seems to be the popular stock of women. Not to worry, I am an exquisite, dark, rarer kind of beauty.

Bored, I flicked my eyes back to Uncle. He too is dressed to kill, no doubt he will look for some widow to pass the time with. His dark green brocade was intricately embroidered with gold and silver thread in the leaf and vine pattern that he was so fond of. His vest was gold and his breeches a soft butter tan. He shall most assuredly turn heads tonight, but not more than I.

A knock sounded at the doors and we both looked up as Kingston escorted Duke Irvine in, a grimace on his face. He sauntered over to me, the way he moves his hips seemed exaggerated for a man, and he bowed to me. He did look rather handsome in the royal purple ensemble, the velvet decorated with subtle gold detail. The colors brought out the sunny gold of his hair and the piercing hue of his eyes, which I had to admit were lovely, though they seemed to hold a lack of interest. He smiled rather stiffly and took my hand and pressed a kiss to the back, but let go almost immediately, as though he was not very keen on touching me.

"You look wonderful, my dear." He murmured as he straightened up and greeted my uncle.

With little ceremony we headed to the carriage. He held the door open and helped me in, as though I could not do such things on my own. All these rules, they tire me so! I rolled my eyes after he rounded the coach to slip in on the other side as I studied the lavish inside. In fact, it was certainly one of the most elaborate ones I had ever seen--other than the Baroness de James that is. Dark velvet covered the seats and there were lap blankets already out. The gas lamps flickered warmly as the coach trundled down the cobblestone street.

The Layfields did not live more than a few blocks away, and in no time I was being helped back down and I smirked as the handsome, blond, footman gasped when I passed him. We were shown into the ballroom, a lavish expanse. Lord Layfield spared no expense. His ball room was known widely as the most elaborate, invites to his festivities were highly coveted. The room was surely a sight to behold, the floors polished wood with intricate inlays in dark mahogany and gold detail. The walls were paneled with white, gold accents and cameos framed in leaf and vine designs. Even for the evening the room was airy and well lit, tall, beautiful stained glass windows arose from the floor and vaulted up towards the ceiling, fine silk curtains of deep satiny greens were tied back with gold ropes. Between the expansive windows were marble carved statues and busts, all boasting of Layfields storied wealth. Lastly, the high vaulted ceiling was painted with rich, intricate murals and from the high ceilings hung elaborate chandeliers, the numerous crystals catching the light and winking brilliantly. The massive room was filled to nearly overflow with guests all just as decorated as the room itself. Women swept across the floor in bright colors as though they were blooming flowers, their beaus just as richly adorned as displaying peacocks with puffed chests as they tried to impress the finest women. In one corner of the room, a band played a lovely waltz, the song soft under the chatter of the elite who peppered the room in their costumes.

All talk ceased as Duke Irvine took my arm and escorted me to the dance floor, people parting for us to make our way. Slowly the chatter built again and my smirk widened as every man we passed during our dance stopped us and asked for the next with me. If the Duke was jealous he did not show it, in fact I did not think I had felt his eyes on me at all thus far this evening. As we took another spin around the room I leaned close to him, my lips just scant inches away from his ear and I whispered lowly.

"What is bothering you M'lord?"

He jumped as if surprised and I laughed; throwing my head back slightly so that he could view the slender column of my neck and perhaps entertain fantasies of pressing his lips upon the exposed flesh.

"N-nothing that concerns you m'lady. T'was a disagreement between my servants." His lips formed a wavering smile and I bit my lip, causing it turn a deeper shade of red.

He frowned, and I kept myself from rolling my eyes. I did not know whether I should be offended that he was uninterested in me, or if his frown was simply an expression that he was displeased that perhaps I was being too bold in my actions. He did rather seem like the proper, stuffy type. He had probably never bent a rule of society a day in his life.

I tried to form my face into a pleasant expression and look into his eyes. Despite the pretty color of them they had a dull sense to them, and the lack of feeling in them just bored me. I was now sure that he was looking past me, his thoughts clearly engaged elsewhere. Was it so much that I desired eyes that glowed with mischievous fire? I did long for such things, for strong arms that would lead me to the coat closet and wrap me in shadows, as fingers boldly unlace my corset and ghost over my trembling flesh.

"And what is troubling you, m'lady?" He asked quietly and stirred me away from thoughts that made my skin grow warm.

"You!" I bit out under my breath, his face shocked at my bluntness.

"Excuse me?" He huffed, a glare deepening the blue of his eyes.

"N-nothing. I mere spoke before thinking. Occasions such as this bore me, and from your similar expression I gather they bore you as well." I tried to back pedal as my face grew warm. His eyes lit from within. There was the fire I was looking for, and I dropped my eyes. I felt that perhaps I had pushed my boundaries too far for a first outing. He chuckled and I looked back up, amazed that the simple sound and action changed him.

"You are right, dear. They do bore me something dreadful!"

"Then why are we here?" I prompted, tilting my head slightly so the tendrils of hair lay against my face invitingly.

"For the simple fact that we need to make it known that we are no longer on the market, my love."

I laughed lightly; he seemed rather practical as well. The dance soon ended and he lead me over to the plush seats that lined the wall, beautiful deep wood designs with clawed feet, the cushions clothed in black velvet.

"Would you care for a drink?" He asked as he bowed formally to me, a lock of his sunlit hair tumbling over his face.

"Of course."

He nodded and melted into the sea of bodies that congregated for the start of the next waltz. With a sigh I looked out over them and drank in the sight since I know that after the three weeks I'll never see the inside of a London ball again, which will not necessarily be a great loss to me. But certainly I will never dance with another man, not the cocky and brash Lord Ziggler, not the self-adoring Count Mizanin, not that fine young specimen, Duke Morrison, oh the lady to win him is quite the lucky harpy! Nay, I shall from now on dance with only one man, the one I am to marry, and despite the notoriety of his name, the notion does somewhat sadden me.

I was not left sitting for long, lost to my thoughts, when my second dance partner came and whisked me out onto the floor, whispering hotly in my ear as we twirled. Surely it was because I was now spoken for that they showed their interest; yet I played along, batting my lashes and acting coquettishly. The few times I seen the Duke he was standing and talking to my uncle, Lord Calaway, and Lord Layfield. The latter whom can't seem to take his eyes from me as he tugs his waist coat over his belly, only to have it ride up once again.

As for the Duke he does not seem so hard pressed about these silly London boys who have their hands all over me, yet I suppose I can count that in my favor. If he does not mind it now, then he surely shall not mind it once we're married--if he displeases me enough that I should be forced to take my pleasure elsewhere.

At last we said our goodbyes and wished everyone well as we passed and made our way to the doors. The Duke looked like it was a burden that he would rather not do, but it was required. Once out in the carriage he and uncle bantered tiredly as they undid their waistcoats and popped buttons on their collars.

"Why is that they keep these affairs so bloody humid?" Uncle asked as he fanned himself with his silk kerchief. "Would it be such a bother for someone to open the balcony doors and let some air in?"

The Duke laughed and mopped his forehead with his kerchief and flicked his eyes over me before he produced a clean one and handed it to me.

"You seemed a trifle warm there yourself Katie Lea." He smirked.

I took the offering but glared at him, how dare he insinuate that I was sweating? It was simply improper and disrespectful. What kind of man was this? Did he have such a little grasp on the rules of the ton, or does he just not care if I am offended? I patted at my chest as it rose and fell. Covertly I watched him from under lowered lashes to see if he is too was watching me. He was not, and with a sniff I handed the kerchief back and turned my head to stare out the windows as the carriage rolled down the street.

I swear, he seemed to be more taken with my uncle than myself! In fact he had paid more attention to him than me over the course of the evening. How outrageous! When he was turned away from me I made no qualms about hiding the vicious scowl on my face, as Uncle looked over the Dukes' shoulder and gave me a silent warning to shape up.

We arrived back at my home, and Uncle invited Lord Irvine inside to share a drink. For me of course, there would be tea sipped from dainty China, even though I would rather have the same as they. My scowl morphed to a smirk as I thought of the times I had sneaked brandy and spirits from Uncles' hoard without him knowing. I can be sneaky, when I must, even if I must with my own husband, though I pray it shall not come to that.

_Chris_

I really did not wish to go in, yet it would have been extremely rude for me to have left without having at least one drink with Lord Regal, and I did rather enjoy his company. He looked quite handsome this night, dapper in the rich green with his hair falling boyishly over his forehead. Closing my eyes tight at my wandering thoughts I scolded myself mentally and attempted to push them back and away from the front of my mind.

Kingston ushered us into the parlor where William took his waistcoat off and tossed it carelessly over the back of the large chair by the marble fireplace, logs glowing warmly within the hearth. Once more Katie Lea was perched on that hideous settee. It looked completely out of place and absurd with her ball gown against it. I slowly paced the room and pretended to be interested in the garish decorations on the wall. Even though it was only minutes before Kingston returned it felt as if it were hours; my mind constantly flew back to my solar where another awaited me--although not as eagerly as I awaited our meeting.

Thankfully our conversation was rather short, because I was having difficulty paying full attention to Lord Regal as he droned on and threw back the strong liquor, and repeatedly pushed his mousey hair away from his eyes. Now and again Katie added in a word or two to our conversation, but she seemed completely bored, and at times her remarks bordered on sarcasm, to which her Uncles eyes fell harshly upon her with warning.

By the time I was back in the carriage, darkness had fallen and the cobbled streets lay in shadows and the stones glistened slick with the soft mist of rain that had started. Once I was alone relief washed through me. I no longer needed to fight the annoying thoughts and fantasies that had been erupting in my mind all day. Vividly now, they thrilled me as the carriage bumpily traced through the old ruts that lead--though it seemed on this night painfully slowly--to the Irvine estate.

Finally, I was able to abandon Copeland and the snorting horses for my home and for what awaited me. My eager footfalls sounded quickly across the marble flooring as I nearly ran through the house and fiddled with buttons on my clothing as I went. I leaped the stairs two at a time and reached my destination hot and out of breath, for a number of reasons. I steadied myself against the wall to gather my wits for a moment, chastising myself that I let my person become so possessed by not just these desires--but more specifically by this man. My nose wrinkled in disgust that it had come to this, that I was so ruled by this--this dirty, despicable slave. Just by touching him I was sullying myself, but it could not be helped. I wanted nothing more than to touch him, to feel that worthless parasite writhe against me.

Grudgingly, I had to admit to myself that despite his lowliness, he set me free unlike any other I had ever had before him. Just now, just in this moment, perhaps I could forget my place and his. Perhaps I could for such brief time, cast aside the shackles society has placed on me, and realize my yearnings. For soon, I would have to be much more discrete in my dalliances. I did not need for my wife to discover my sin. Before entering, I offered up a short prayer of forgiveness for what I was about to do, as I always did. I wondered why I still bothered, knowing that forgiveness was far from my reach, for I could not bring myself to repentance for these things. The only hope for me was to shut down my deepest desires, and I had already tried that route, sadly failing myself, failing God. Sighing, I entered the room and locked the door behind me, perhaps if I hid behind my thick oak doors, He would not see me as I partake in my sin.

_And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou? And Adam said, I heard Thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. And the Lord said unto Adam, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat?_

Yes Lord, I have eaten from that tree, and the fruit is so sweet.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

_Chris _

Morning came too soon and with it the knowledge that sometime during the night Matthew had crept from my bed. The light poured in through the windows; alerting me to the fact that the drapes had been pulled open. From the corner of the room I heard shuffling and I turned my head and located Christian as he gingerly flipped through my clothing and pulled together an outfit. The rustling of the covers must have caught his ear and he turned, a tight smile on his face as he nodded to me.

"G'morning m'lord. Did the night treat you well?" He asked as he turned his back so that I could take care of my morning needs. I plunged my hands into the icy water in the basin, my eyes flicking back to the bed as if there were some visible sign that Matthew had been there the night before. Near the center of the bed my eyes fell upon it: a smear of blood; reminding me that I tore him. His growling from the night before played back to me as were it a ghost, and the haunting sounds reached my ears and made them glow hot. Quickly I moved back over to the bed and flipped the covers to hide the crimson evidence which had no proper means to account for it.

"Lord Regal's foot man Kingston stopped by sire." Christian said as he turned to face me again. "Is that so?" My hair was a tangle of snarls from Matthew and my row in the sheets, so I gingerly started to pull the tortoise shell brush through my golden locks.

"Aye m'lord. He wishes for you to join him at the club later today to observe the boxing matches."

_Boxing matches. _My face screwed up into a scowl and when Christian raised his brow a bit I quickly hid my looks of apparent disgust. I could not imagine such an awkward situation. When Lord Regal and our colleagues would be getting sauced and enjoying the brutal display, I would be fidgeting and attempting to hide my disgust at such a barbaric display, while simultaneously becoming aroused. Perhaps it shall not come to that, I prayed it would not. I entertained the thought of rolling back into my downy mattress and feigning an illness, thus avoiding the thing all together, though undoubtedly Regal would just send another invite once I was 'well'.

Reluctantly I let Christian dress me and after my reflection suited me I headed for the dining room. My mind went completely blank when I entered and my eyes fell upon Matthew as he leaned against the wall and watched my cook as she moved about the room; a blush on her cheeks. My face begin to heat as though fiery embers, and I pushed the thoughts aside and took my seat. Ms. Piper moved so that she was standing aside me, awaiting my order. When I looked up at her, I could see the dark bruise which marred the column of her throat and my frustration began to come back to the forefront.

I wished for it to be my neck that Matthew nibbled at, that his lips caressed. I dropped my heated glare away from her, knowing that would never be a reality. Even if I was ever able to get him to the point that he would obey me willingly, I was highly skeptical that he would ever return the affection. No, it's only lust, only my need to satisfy myself, there is no affection. Scoundrel, how could I let my emotions run away with me so? Am I a no better than a doting female? I barked at the cook that I was not taking breakfast, to which Christian cast a worried glance at me. I waved him away moodily when he began to speak, and I thought he glanced at Matthew with something dark creeping into his eyes. It was no matter to me.

I rose from the table, moving swiftly from the room. With my mood as soured as it was I supposed that it would serve to keep my mind from wandering during the boxing matches. Christian was trailing behind me; I could hear his soft footfalls against the marble flooring. I tried to push Matthew and Ms. Piper from my mind, but the dark bruising on her neck haunted me when I closed my eyes. With meaning too I found myself back in my quarters; staring at my bed and wanting to crawl under the cool cotton sheets.

"Sir--" The word was spoken quietly, whatever was meant to be behind it fell flat when I spun to face Christian, his eyes wide at the anger twisting my face.

"Let me be Christian, you are dismissed for the morning." He took an unsure step back and worried his bottom lip with his teeth. I thought he was ready to leave, and was suprised when he started again, even quieter than the first time.

"Bu-but M'lord...if something is distressing you--" This time, my palm ringing against his check cut his words short. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled back, a thread of crimson leaking from his lips from where he'd bit down on his tongue.

"Don't defy me, damn it!" I yelled, pacing about the room and glancing at him as he backed out of the door, his eyes wide as he dabbed his lips on the back of his hand.

With a yowl of frustration I went to the window and leaned against it, watching the scenery below. After a few moments I saw Christian trudging back to his housing, his shoulders slumped, and I felt simply horrible. I had never struck him; he has always been good to me, today being no exception. He was only concerned for me as a good valet should. I pulled away from the window and sighed, rubbing at my temples as a splendid headache welled up inside of my skull.

I knew what I had to do, yet I didn't think that Christian would accept an apology from me right now. In fact I doubt that he'd even believe one. After all I'm not one to admit when I'm sorry. I clenched my hands; all this was Matthew's fault. If that beautifully dark phantom hadn't started haunting my thoughts both day and night this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't be consumed with the need to touch him constantly; to feel his muscles beneath my fingers and hear the pleasured sounds that drip from his lips enchantingly even when he tries to swallow them. My mind starts to drift again and I turned from the window trying to get myself under control. There is a small knock on my door and I call for them to come in dully, it's probably no more than the butler reminding me about something or the other that I have to do today. When I look back up I'm surprised to see the object of my dark fantasies standing there; a suppressed grimace on his face.

"_M'Lord _" The title is forced out but I over look it in my obvious dumbfoundment. "Lord Regal is here to see you." He goes to turn and leave but I call out; finding my voice and praying that it isn't wavering.

"Matthew go and fetch Christian for me. Tell him I need to speak with him, that it's most urgent." With a stiff nod Matthew is gone fro my sight, and I let out a sigh; sounding very much like one of the starry eyed gels at the ball from the previous eve.

In moments Christian was lingering in the doorway, I did not blame him for his ill at ease manner. I beckoned him in and it was clear that he stepped in only out of obedience to me, not because he wanted to.

"Christian...f-forgive me for my quick temper I...I have been...rather on edge since coming to London. I do not favor the city, I would much rather be home in the open space, and truly, I do not much enjoy the company of Lady Katherine nor do I eagerly await our marriage." I looked away from him and took up my former spot at the window, fearing I had spoke too much and would only make his curiosity peak further. I had begun to feel that everything was out of my hands, and did not at all like it. I closed my eyes and leaned against the cool glass of the window, wishing my choices could be made easier, my burdens lesser.

Christian cleared his throat, a light--almost purring sound--and I looked back up at him.

"Sire, I do not mean to be disrespectful but you truly do not want this match can you not beg off and find another?"

_If only it were that easy. _I shook my head, once more damning the strict rules that my status has wrought upon me. "For I to call it off would mean that I find something about her unsuitable for marriage. And that stigma would always be there, killing any chance she would have at finding a potential mate in the future." Christian nodded his head, and looked back down at his feet. "You may go now Christian; I merely wanted to tender an apology for what I'd done. Take the rest of the day and do whatever strikes your fancy." I forced a smile on my face, reminding myself that Lord Regal was awaiting me in the parlor.

"What about you sire, you'll have no one to attend to you."

"Christian my dear man, I'm going to the boxing matches. I won't need anyone until I return."

The boxing match did little to take my mind from my problems. As Lord Regal and the others cheered for their man, I was quiet, warring to keep certain parts of myself from embarrassment. Layfield was there, and he started bets, garnering many heated glares when he seemed to be curiously coming out ahead. For the most part I was able to keep myself in check; although I felt rather awkward, and I am positive the awkwardness was picked up by William as he tried to get my interest peaked, clapping me heartily on the back. I put on a false, wide, grin and offered a few half-hearted cheers at whomever it was that he was pulling for. Currently, there was a young fair headed lad squaring off against and older man with a big frame, his jaw bearded, his head bald. The young blond was called Jack, the other called Bam. Their row was intense and behind their eyes seemed an impassioned fire. Fists flew and connected with flesh again and again, each one seeming to own the other just as well, both split and bleeding from various points on their faces. Seeing the younger blond drip blood from his mouth had me shifting from foot to foot as my mind went back to Christian and how I had treated him so poorly this morning.

I shook my head to clear it away and watched Lord Regal. He was in quite an absurd frenzy over the bigger man, yelling and cheering him on, while heckling the other. I mimicked him if for nothing more than to seem as though I was enjoying the show. In fact, I hoped for it to be over very soon. The men around me were beginning to get rowdy and loud from too much ale. The thick smell of the liquor hung in the air and mingled with the heavy scent of cigar smoke and sweat. I grimaced, not at all enjoying the atmosphere or the spray of bodily juices that splattered my face when the bearded man landed on last blow to the face of the blond, knocking him into an unmoving lump in the midst of the ring. The one called Bam was cheered, his hand raised in victory. I shifted my eyes towards Regal, hoping we could at last leave. But seemingly there was one more match to be tolerated.

The first man out was small and nearly feminine looking, he immediately found my attention. His hair was beautiful and golden, tied neatly at the back of his neck. Even from here I could distinguish the intensity of his blazing cobalt eyes, and the smile on his face was smug as he bounced on his toes in his corner. When I flicked my gaze to his opponent my mouth went dry and I nearly collapsed, at first mistaking the man for my Matthew. At first glance they were very similar indeed, but the more I studied his face I drew out the differences. I feared however, that this last match would be too much for me. I was correct in my assumptions. The moment the two men--one called Hickenbottom, the other called Hart--squared off passion and hate seemed to burst between them. Very soon I could not see those two men battling, but replaced with myself and Matthew. My knees felt weak, and I turned to William, shouting to him that I was not feeling well and needed air. I weaved through the crowd, feeling sick at each disgusting, drunkard that brushed against me in the dimly lit area. Once outside I gasped, relieved to be away from that scene.

_Matt_

For some strange reason even after Irvine left I found myself on edge, almost as if my body was trying to warn me of some danger that was lurking just outside the scope of my vision. Of course there wasn't but all the same I felt my stomach coiling as I walked through the empty halls of the townhome. Jeri the cook was busy prepping the evening meal, so I had time until she was done to waste. I felt my lips kick up into a smile, between her dark beauty and Darla's creamy fairness I was a man that extremely well sated. A darkened hall caught my attention and with the curiosity of young boy I headed down; my eyes flicking back and forth as I took in the gilded frames that held pictures of what could only be Irvine's ancestors. Each one had the same sparkling blue eyes and soft looking lips. The thought brought me up short; where in the hell did that come from? I shook my head and pushed on further down the hall, forcing myself to think of my two--feminine lovers. Soon my memories were a mish mash that I didn't bother to sort out; I just let them play over and over again as I continued down the hall so when I was violently shoved it was a complete surprise. Before I could get my bearing back, I was turned around and pinned to wall by my throat; Christian glaring and snarling at me.

I surged forward and pushed the miscreant away from me. He fell back against the wall and knocked one of the Dukes' family oil portraits askew in its heavy, gilded, frame.

"What is the meaning of this!" I spat at him and out of instinct took up a defensive, fighting posture.

He picked himself up and glared from under his brow, the intensity in his loathing shocking to me. I had not noted it whilst he had first been teaching me the ways of the valet. No, then he had merely seemed bored with my presence, perhaps a bit resentful, but nothing that would warrant him lashing out against me.

He didn't answer me, just surged forwards again, this time taking us to the flooring where my head struck with enough force to send stars dancing behind my eyelids. He started to speak yet I could barely make out any words through the ringing in my ears. Almost stupidly I blinked up at him, my mind completely blank. His balled hand connected with my check and I bit down on the inside of my cheek; blood filling my mouth as my survival instincts took over. I struggled until I got my feet positioned under his stomach then shoved him backwards; sending him crashing back into the wall. I scrambled to my feet and stood with my hands at the ready; waiting for him to regain his composer.

"Answer me dammit!" I all but yelled, not caring who over heard me.

"You won't be taking my place." He snarled; quickly grabbing a fistful of my hair and using it to fling me into a statue that stood a little ways down the hall.

"You're nothing more than a crass, loud mouth, urchin who would be better off in the stables shoveling dung and caring for the master's beasts rather than dirtying up the house with your uncouth mannerisms and provincial dialect." He sniffed and I suddenly felt the urge to spread his pretty aquiline nose all over his face.

I barely reigned in the impulse and settled instead to glare as I snapped out my retort. "Believe you me, I'd rather be in the stables, atleast there a jackass is a jackass whereas here there are jackasses trying to pass themselves off as something different." Christian once more started to growl at me, and I took a step forwards, pressing my chest against his.

He drew his fist back ready to belt me again but froze, as twin shrieks pierced our ears. We both jerked out heads towards the sounds. Darla and Jezebel scurried towards us, clutching the dusty hems of their skirts, the latter pushing her mop cap back over her raven tresses as it tried to abandon her.

"What are you two doing?" She noted the cocked frames on the wall and immediately went to setting them straight as Darla inserted herself between Christian and I, cautiously glancing back and forth between our scowling faces.

"It's not fit for the both of you to carry on so in the Dukes' home!" Miss Hughes chastised. "If you insist on carrying on a barney like two untamed animals, then take it else where!"

"She's right, loves take it elsewhere! We needn't have blood to scrub from the floor and shattered trinkets to find explanation for when Sire comes home. His mood is already ill, and I for one do not wish to see it sour further." Miss Piper chimed in, patting Christians' arm in attempts to placate him.

They're right and I back down, surprised to see the red head standing there. Last I seen her she was scrubbing floors back at the estate. My surprise must not have gone unnoticed; she smiled saucily and bit her bottom lip playfully.

"Copeland was sent to fetch some o us from the manor this morn. Apparently he couldn't find any good help around these parts."

I grinned down at her then looked over at Jezebel, my eyes wide as they shared identical smirks. I think I'm now in more trouble. Christian snorted and straightened his clothing, his superior--snobbish expression back on his face.

"I do apologize my fair ladies. I merely wanted to speak with Matthew yet I fear I let my unbased fears ensnare me." He nodded to them and left, his back stiff and his steps wooden. The sound of giggling makes me turn around and I can't help the smirk, this might just turn out to be a good thing.

_Chris_

I was glad for Copeland to take me away from that place. William came out after me, his footing a bit wobbly from the amount of ale he'd thrown back. He wanted me to come back and have a visit, but I kept up that I was ill, which was not entirely a farce. Apologizing for my premature departure, I ducked into the coach and closed my eyes tight until it stopped again, and Adam took my hand to help me out. I asked him to stay ready, that Matthew and I were going on an outing. When his glance seemed wary, I gave an explanation that I wanted time to become acquainted with him in hopes he might settle better into the position he was being trained for. Adam said nothing, and I went inside to round up the dark haired demon that haunted me, though at this moment I only wished for him to be close to me, as a friend or confidant even though I knew he was neither. The notion of linking those two words between us was nearly laughable.

It didn't take me long to find him, he was sitting in the kitchen area watching as Jezebel and Darla bustled around the area doing their respective duties. Mentally I smacked myself for not telling Copeland to leave the buxom redhead at the estate. No mind, I'll just have to make sure that Matthew's time is occupied during the day so that he doesn't have the opportunities to further corrupt my help. _Or leave on them the marks that he should be leaving on me._ With a frown I pushed that thought to the side, and cleared my throat. All three looked up, Jezebel and Darla dropping down into deep curtseys before resuming their duties and Matthew curling his lip in contempt. I quickly thing about turning on my heels and retreating to my room but the sudden need to just be near him is over powering and I hear myself calling out to him.

"Matthew, ready your cloak, we're going out on an errand." He stands and for a moment I think that he's going to start back talking me, yet I'm pleasantly surprised when he nods his head stiffly.

"As you wish _M'lord._" He stalks from the room and for a moment I wonder if he really just obeyed with out sass.

He was back shortly, and without word followed me tot he coach. He ducked in as I told Adam where I wish to go, and then I too was seated inside. Strangely, being near him, some of my tension though not all of it drained away. At least my back was not so stiff and rigid, but more relaxed, and the throb in my head dulled to a more tolerable level. Out of reflex my hand moved towards his, almost ghosting across it before I drew it away with a gasp, as though it had mind of its own and had gone about its business without first consulting me. Luckily, Matthews gaze was turned towards the street, and he did not notice the near contact. Internally I berated myself for such a stupid action. Holding his hand? Surely not...but all the same...I slightly wondered how the strong, work-worn, hands would feel warm and wrapped around my soft ones.

"So what errand are we running today sire." It was said softly and I turned my attention back to him. His eyes were still watching the street blur by us; the light coming in the small window and splashing across his face; giving it an almost unworldly glow.

"There is no errand, I merely wanted to spend some time with you......to get to know you better." I don't know why I felt the need to be honest with him, but when he turns his large brown eyes to me; their dark depths clouded with confusion I know that I either derailed whatever spiteful thing that was going to come out of his mouth or gave him more fuel for his hatred.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Now it was my turn to be confused. No hate, no sneering, just a quiet question asked almost fearfully from a man that I doubt has ever known an ounce of fear in his life.

"Why do you want to know about me? I gave my word to keep your illicit secret; I need not tell you anything about me in the process."

My cheeks felt hot as I looked down at my lap where I picked at my nails, somehow seeming nervous. "I--well you see...I suppose I thought it might...make things a bit easier if we were on better terms." It did no quite sound like the right thing to say, nor was it really what I meant--bloody hell--I did not know what I meant anyway. I clicked my mouth shut and decided on mimicking Matthew and just stared out the window, waiting for a reply or for the carriage to stop, whichever came first.

"My father was a cobbler." The words, though quiet, hung in the air. I turned and looked at him, willing him silently to go on. "I had a brother, but he was taken from me."

"By the slavers?"

Matthew shook his head, his eyes coming away from the window and fastening on my face and for once there was no scowling lips, no smoldering eyes; it was just him, the Matthew I only glimpsed when he was sleeping.

"No, he was cut down when raiders infiltrated our town." He said no more, turning his head from me once more and bringing one hand up to wipe at his eyes.

I wanted to pull him close and offer him comfort and I acted on my impulse, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and drawing him into my chest. For a moment he just sat there, his head lying on my chest; his hair tickling my nose and then it was over. He yanked himself from my grasp and moved to the far side of the couch, his eyes once more consumed with the hatred that I had grown accustomed of seeing there and his lips compressed into a tight line.

I felt perhaps I was pressuring him too much, and he was not the only one thrust into confusion at my actions. I knew what they meant, they meant that I was beginning to care for the raven haired stallion, and more so I wished that someone, that he would care for me in a way no one else had, not even the loyal Christian. I knew I should stop entertaining such fantasies; they were completely ridiculous and painfully unattainable. The more I thought it over, the more I thought that perhaps I should call for Copeland to turn the carriage and go back to the town home that felt cold and uncaring to me.

"Matthew, would you prefer we went back?" I found the words coming awkwardly from my lips, and felt his bewildered gaze upon me. I turned to watch his eyes as the suspiciously searched me, as though I was hiding some wicked trick.

"And since when does it matter what I prefer?"

"Since I have asked it of you." I responded quietly, waiting. "I'm sure you would...would much rather be chasing the ladies of my house than spending your time in my presence."

His brow furrowed as he tried to find some loop hole that would ensnare him but gave up when he could not.

"N-no." The simple word surprised us both. "I mean, it seems as if the ladies of your house have ganged up on me and I'm no longer the hunter but the hunted." I tried hard to keep the smile from my lips, but the image was too absurd and I found myself chuckling under my breath. If there was one thing that Matthew was not, it was prey. I nodded my head and settled a little more against the plush cushioning.

"Since I have asked of you, is there anything that you would like to know of me?"

His head stayed bowed; there was probably nothing that he wanted to know and I didn't blame him. If I were in his place I probably wouldn't want to know anything about the man forcing me to his will either. When it stayed quiet I rolled my shoulders, part of me wishing that he had asked something--anything, even if it was laced with hatred and contempt. The coach trundled on, both of our eyes drawn to the streets as the slate grey stones passed, interrupted every so often by a broken or missing piece. I rapped on the roof, my signal to Copeland to return to the townhouse, there was no headway being made and while I didn't want our time to end, I didn't know how long I could stay cooped up in the small space without touching him again. As we made a wide right Matthew looked over at me, his eyes narrowed but full of confusion.

"Why me?" Simple words really, yet strung together they formed a larger--more complex question. I tilted my head. There were so many ways I could answer that but as I sat there I couldn't pull the right answer to me. In the end it didn't matter, Matthew had more to say. His hands were fisted in his lap, his fingers twined with themselves and twisting this way and that; occasionally making me flinch as I heard the bones pop and grind together.

"Out of all the slaves there that day, why did you pick me? What was it about me that made you have to have me?" His eyes were now boring holes into mine and my mouth spoke before I had a chance to think over my words.

"I...I don't know." I shifted in my seat, feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze. "The moment I heard the throng gasp, the moment I...laid eyes upon you...I was possessed with your dark beauty." I cast my eyes downwards, towards my lap, feeling ill and wishing I had not asked him questions or better yet, had not even asked him along in the first place. "I am sorry." I added softly. Whatever had I been thinking? I suppose I was just painfully lonely and hoped that being near him would ease the emptiness. Now, I only wanted to be rid of him for the day.


	7. Chapter 7

**DK and I thank you for reading and reviewing! We hope you are enjoying this. We're giving you our all and having a lot of fun too! **

**Chapter 7**

_Chris_

The weeks passed by quicker than I liked. The images of Katie Lea in various extravagant ball gowns blurred into one spinning dream--perhaps more a nightmare. The closer the date loomed the worse my nerves became and poor Christian became the object of my snippy words. Thrice I had called Matthew to me in hopes that a night with him would help ease my troubled mind. I found myself wishing he would stay after our rounds, lay next to me under the covers for a bit, even if no words were spoken, but he was always up and away as soon as my physical needs were met. I did not need this new confusion piled atop my wedding nerves, or perhaps the strain of the upcoming marriage was only making what was between Matthew and I seem more complex than it really was. He was merely to be a means to end my sexual frustrations, not an investment of my feelings or the object of my affections.

All of these things passed through my mind and drew me away from the moment at hand, in which I was supposed to be setting my mind on my soon to be wife and our future of bliss. It was a hard future to look to, when even as I had arrived at the cathedral this morning the sky had been a smudgy, foreboding sort of gray. Against it the tall, gothic spires of the looming stone cathedral seemed like long, spiky, nails which awaited my crucifixion. In the enormous, circle of stained glace which was set into the face, crows perched, their heads jerkily moving, preening their blue-black feathers in what was surely a damning omen. After being led in by Christian, to a smaller alcove, he began to fuss over me and so I had lost myself to my anxieties. I was suddenly aware of Matthew speaking, his voice loud, devoid of its usual new-found respect and instead tinted with a bit of annoyance.

"Sir, it would be well to know your thoughts—if this flamboyant ensemble piques your fancy." I blinked to see the dark one close to my face. Christian pushed him back a bit and stepped between us. He fiddled with the ruffles of my shirt.

"Does it suit you, m'lord?" Christian asked as he straightened my cuffs. I glanced in the mirror, taken aback at the lack of color in my face and the sheen of sweat that made my reflection look ill. I closed my eyes and Christian mopped at my brow with a silk cloth. When I answered him my voice was dull.

"Yes Christian, t'is fine." His eyes moved over me, markedly concerned.

"M'lord, perhaps you should sit." He touched my elbow and I nodded, as it suddenly dawned on me just how badly I was trembling. He helped me into a chair and cast a worried glance towards Matthew whose arms were crossed over his chest, his face hard and uncaring.

The sounds from the cathedrals sanctuary filtered into the room and sent my heart thundering in my chest and my breathing into panicked wheezing. Christian waved a hand at Matthew and barked at him to go and get some water and a cloth. With a growl that was scarcely concealed he was gone from the room and I found myself wishing to follow suit and vacate my doom. I wished to curl up in dark corner and hide until the dreaded ceremony was finished.

However I was not awarded that luxury. When I glanced up, Matthew was back with the items Christian had demanded of him. They were handed off and in my altered state of mind I barely noticed the black looks that passed between my two men. Christian dipped the corner of the the terrycloth into the cool liquid and dabbed at my face and around my neck, taking care not to drip any on my wedding attire. Matthew let out a breath and I noted a flash of pain that crossed his dark features as he leaned against the wall. A bit of remorse tightened my chest even moreso than my panicking. I had been brutal, verily so, with him last night as I tried to drive that damned harpy from my mind. I stood to my feet though they were less than steady, and moved about the room with attempts seem casual and fluid but knowing my steps were unsure.

"It shan't take so long sir, and then the two of you will be hid away from prying eyes." Christian said soothingly, as he trailed me and dabbed again at my hot cheeks when I turned to him, and held still long enough. His words made me near to tears. He was a good man, but his assurances were not easing my mind.

"What be there to fret about?" Matthew bit out. "If she does not tickle your fancy I'm sure you would ne'er hesitate to take your pleasure from another." He spat, his eyes blazing.

"Matthew!" Christian shouted. It was a strange sound to me. I could never remember hearing my blond valet with his voice raised.

The two rivals circled one another as Matthew snarled and grimaced, and Christian's hands twitched at his sides. In my fragile mind frame there was simply no way I could handle the stimulus. Just seeing Matthew's chest heave and his eyes flash had me thinking back to the night before and nearly panting.

"Enough!" I commanded and prayed that my voice sounded firmer than my wobbly knees felt. Both men stared at me. Two sets of smoldering eyes sent hot flames in my direction and they seemed to consume my body.

Thankfully there was a knock upon the door and I turned my back on the two incensed men. I pushed their heavy breathing and guttural growls to the back of my mind, in hopes they would vacate my person entirely.

At the door stood the priest, his round face pleasant and his eyes bright, his form shrouded in a simple black robe which seemed more suited to a funeral than a ceremony of marriage—perhaps they were one in the same. He nodded to me and lowly mentioned t'was time. Those words, so very much like the ones spoken before a hanging or beheading, hung in the air and pressed down on me with all the unease of an iron vice.

In the chapel, I stood in wait, and hoped I was not trembling too badly. I could only pray that it would soon be done with. But why would The Almighty or His saints turn ears to hear a disgusting sinner such as I? I chewed my lip and glanced upwards at the vast, vaulted, ceilings delicately painted with murals and scenes, above me Mother Mary looked down, her eyes seeming cold as a spikes of ice. I pulled my eyes away and shuffled my feet as I fought the urge to retch onto the toes of my ornate shoes. Even in such expanse of a room, with high stone arches and tall ceilings, I felt as though I was stuffed into a tight box. The wide, marble columns that lined the sides of the sanctuary seemed to bear down upon me, as though weighty sentinels observing my last breath before the close. Terror welled, stronger and stronger, until I feared I must have looked as spooked as a horse in the dark and just as ready to bolt.

A gasp rose from the guests who lined the pews. They all rose as one unit, and my bride was led through the double doors on the arm of Lord Regal, too late it was now to flee, and as it were my feet seemed made of iron and affixed to the floor. Lord Regal looked down at Katherine and his stony blue eyes glittered proudly as some of his mousey hair fell over his forehead. Katie seemed to smirk at me, the smile on her face less than innocent. Her dark hair was swept up from her severe face. Her jewelry and gown were both lavish, and the massive skirt rustled about as the two of them made their way towards me at a pace that seemed maddeningly slow.

After what seemed like an eternity she stood by my side and looked into my eyes as she worried her lip. I bit back a grimace and turned my attention to the priest, trying to tune into his voice, to listen to his words as he spoke so that I did not make a fool of myself. Yet the words all blurred together into one big swell of noise that nothing could penetrate. I suppose I must have said the right thing at the right time because before I knew what was happening she had pulled me towards her, her lips puckered and pressed to mine as the guests flew up in a chorus of yells and cat calls. I tried, I really did, to get into the kiss but it was akin to pressing my lips against those of a fish; cold and slimy, not at all desirable.

After a moment or two she pulled away, her eyes narrowed at me but then widened and as she turned to those around her and laughed. I swallowed hard as my back was thumped heartily; first by Lord Regal, then Layfield, Jacobs, Calaway, McMahon, and some others who by that point in time I could not recall. We here herded--for lack of a better term—out of the cathedral and into the awaiting carriage. Katie Lea called her goodbyes with flutters of her hand as we started away, my heart racing as I thought about what was to come later this night.

Next we arrived at the reception which was at the Lord Regals' estate. There was not a lot to it, dancing, congratulations, and champagne. It was beautiful and fine, but my mind was still elsewhere, throbbing with a headache that felt like an ax splitting against my skull. During our last dance, Katie pulled me closer, and whispered against my ear.

"Christopher, you look ghastly, and your hands shake. Are you ill?" Her eyes narrowed at me, hard and seemingly annoyed.

"No, my love. I...I am well, I assure you." She rolled her eyes, an action I knew I would very quickly grow to despise.

I forced myself to press a kiss to her cheek and smile before I pushed her towards the dance floor again.

"Go on love, I would have a few words with your Uncle before this eve has slipped away." She studied me hard for a moment, but then moved back out onto the floor, no doubt making up some tale or another as to why I was suddenly missing. I weaved through the crowds, stopping every so often for some one to clap me on the back or make some lewd remark about what was going to be happening once they all left. I acted the part, leering back and making ribald comments, but inside I was shaking, my nerves pulled tight and knotted up all at the same time. Once I was free of the ballroom I all but sprinted towards the door and out into the cool night air, relieved at the cool kiss of it against my hot face and into my tight chest.

I leaned against the stone, mopping my brow and looking out over the fading evening, glancing upwards at the pale moon that began to peak through a gauzy film of cloud. I fear I stayed away from my bride to the point of rudeness, but if I was to return so soon I knew the meal I had forced myself to partake not long ago would be not remaining in my stomach, I felt so horribly sick, and wondered how long I would survive this union.

I finally urged my feet to take me back inside, and was relieved to see that the ballroom had began to clear, and at last we were left a lone with only our help scurrying about to tidy the place. Katie Lea was ordering about my servants and her own, and none to gently at that. I could already see a munity coming from my staff. Ms. Piper and Ms. Hughes had been back handed when Katie Lea came in on them in the kitchen talking to Matthew and her man Kingston as they scraped plates and flirted simultaneously. While I was grateful that she had broken up the display, I was not pleased at her heavy handedness with my help. I wanted to call her up for it, to demand that she stop but I was not looking to fight on our first night of _wedded bliss_.

Instead I waited until she had gone before I went and made amends for her, stating that the stress of the wedding and the reception afterwards had made her moody. Whether or not my people believed it I never knew, for Katie Lea and I left mere minutes later and headed back for the country estate to consummate our marriage. With every mile we covered and every rut we bounced through I felt my stomach tightening until I felt not for the first time that night as if I would be ill.

We pulled up to my prized and beloved country estate. I went to take her hand and lead her in, but she pulled it away and her lip twitched in an attempt perhaps to cover a grimace.

"There are no needs for formalities here, and besides--your hands are slimy." She stalked off towards the house as I raked my palms against my breeches, taken aback at her bluntness.

I went after her grudgingly and we went inside. I stood in the hall, fingers clumsily trying to pull buttons, so I could shed this damn overcoat that was burning me up. She was already sweeping about. Her dress swooshed against the floor as she inspected and frowned at my furniture and decor. They were all fine pieces I had painstakingly picked by hand, having many of them custom made, to suit this place perfectly. I suddenly had the sinking feeling that my life was about to be overhauled and taken hostage by this Lady Katherine. I hung my coat over the back of a straight chair and gasped, fumbling with my shirt collar as it seemed to have become tight and restricting; the stranglehold of cold woman.

Said woman made her way to the elaborate, carved, mantle, and swept her gaze once more over my empty home. For tonight we had it all to ourselves. Copeland and the few others here would be retired to their quarters and the rest of my servants would come in the morning, as I had left some of them to assist Lord Regals' staff in putting his home back to rights.

Now, Katie Lea moved towards the marble staircase and I followed wanly behind, watching as she scowled and prodded at the various pieces of furniture along the way. I moved to her side and she turned, her eyes glittering as she moved close, and pressed her chest against mine, running her hands over my arms.

"I've waited all night for this." She purred as she batted her lashes at me. "Take me my Duke."

I swallowed hard, nearly gagging on my tongue as she tilted her face towards mine, her lips puckered once more; glistening wet in the low lamp light. I screwed my eyes closed and pressed my lips to hers, ready to make the kiss short. Her lips prodded on however, never shy, and urged mine to part as her tongue slipped inside, disgusting and writhing like an invading worm. I entertained it for as long as I could bear to and then parted our mouths. Before she could try again, I hoisted her into my arms and began to carry her up the winding staircase as I minded not to trip over her long, silky, skirt. Each step seemed tremendously labored, as I forced my feet to go into a direction they wanted to run from. I was afraid my trembling legs would send us both to the floor as I moved down the hallway towards my solar, but we made it inside and I sat her back upon her feet. She grinned cheekily and presented her back to me.

"Untie me?" It was said in a little girls tone of voice and any sexual urges I might have been able to muster had died. My stomach leaped into my throat, as I did as she wished. After much fumbling her dress slid to the floor in a great pool of lace and silk, revealing the hoop beneath, petticoat, and bone corset that cinched her waist. She smirked from over her shoulder at me and I could only imagine how pale and ridiculously afraid I looked.

So far, my plan to be suave about this whole to-do and fake it was not going as well as I had expected. I cleared my throat and tried to loosen up. I stepped closer to her and slipped my shaking hands around her small waist. My fingers found the laces to her corset and slowly began to loosen them, forcing myself to place light kisses along her neck and shoulders as I did so, hating the way her skin shuddered under the touch of my lips. It did not even smell right to my senses which had became enamored with the scent of the dark stallion who was in other quarters, his sticky sweaty skin, scented with the days labors, musky, tinted with hay and horses and raw, burning, manliness. My thoughts were beginning to run away with me, my fingers tangling in the corset strings, a soft moan ghosting from my lips. Of course, she mistook that as my longing for her, which was not at all correct, but well suited to keep up my struggling façade.

I freed her from the tight confines of her boned corset and let it fall to the floor, followed by the hoop, and last the petticoat. My eyes were tightly closed the entire time, and I felt increasingly absurd. It was worse when she turned around, and my eyes flew around trying to find a place that did not turn my stomach. It was not enough, seemingly, that I just did not find women attractive, but that I was rather disgusted by them. She advanced on me when I made no movement to touch her, and grabbed my hands from where they hung limp at my sides, and situated them around her ample breasts, to which I yelped in surprise.

She laughed, a throaty sound yet not the least bit on par to the deep sound that I'd rather be hearing. I forced my fingers to flex, hesitantly kneading the heavy globes and trying to shut down the part of me that wanted to gag. I must have been doing something right, she arched her back and let out a moan that sounded like a dying calf. Startled I moved back, my eyes wide as I worried rather I had hurt her or not.

"M-my lady..." I never got the sentence out.

She started to pick at the buttons on my clothing and I winced as I pictured her long nails pulling threads from their places and catching on the fine material. I wanted to push her hands away and do it myself so that my clothing would stay in one piece but I had the feeling that she would not be dissuaded so easily. It didn't take long for her to get past the barrier of my waistcoat and shirt and soon her cold, clammy hands were gliding over my chest; making me jump and whimper. Apparently intellect was not something that came to her family for the dumb chit thought that my whimper of discomfort was one of pleasure and licked at my throat; her tongue moving slowly across my skin and making me feel nauseated. As her tongue continued its sickening exploration her hands slid down my chest to my waist, dipping into my breeched and palming my flaccid length.

Her hands wrapped around my sadly unresponsive cock and began to stroke it. It was to say the least awkward. Her dainty hands against me were doing little to elicit a response. I needed the hands of a man to tease myself to arousal, and these hands were not at all that. I tried to imagine a different set moving against me—big, warm, work-worn hands that moved hard, the rough calluses scraping softly, oh—oh Matthew! I bit into my lips as my thoughts became explicit, as I forced her hands to become the hands of my Matthew. When the touch left me my eyes flew open, and I looked down, almost shocked to see myself fully erect.

"Christopher, ooh—touch me. Touch me!" She barked, harshly as my face burned red as though I did not know what to do. "For heavans sake!" She seemed annoyed, or maybe just in a hurry I really could not tell. She shoved me onto the bed and pulled my breeches from where they'd tangled around my feet and tossed them aside, followed by yanking off my court shoes. She straightened up. Her hands groped her own body as my heart thundered in my ears, making me dizzy. I gripped the coverlet, fearful that I was going to pass out and make myself into a complete fool. She climbed onto me and straddled my waist. I forced my eyes to stay open as she then began to touch herself, if I averted my gaze or if I let the inner grimace contort my face it would ruin everything. She was making soft, feminine noises that I hated. I wanted to hear Matthew and his hoarse moans as I took him, the primal panting, not this. She stopped writhing, thank goodness, but instead trailed her wet, sticky fingers up my body and to my lips. My skin crawled beneath their slimy ascent and my stomach threatened to leap to my throat.

"Do you want to taste me?"

I must have looked completely horrified, I certainly felt it. Her expression changed to a frown.

"What's wrong?" She snapped.

"N-no-nothing my dear, I-I I'm just—excited." It sounded so very absurd, but it must have appeased her. "I…I want to taste you."

I forced my lips apart and she slid her fingers in, the taste against my tongue disgusting as I tried not to gag. Thankfully it did not lasts very long, she was much more eager than I, making noises again. On the other hand, I was fighting just to keep my arousal from wilting. I could feel my shame and embarrassment burning my face at how badly this was turning out. Surely she could sense my unease…but then again it was our wedding night, perhaps a bit of unease was not so out of place. She was certainly not uneasy, as she wrapped her legs around my waist, feeling not at all like the strong, sturdy ones I was used to. Her hands were touching me again, guiding into that place I did not want to be. My hands clutched desperately at the sheets, nails biting into my skin, my eyes closed so tight it was nearly painful as I tried to think of Matt, to spur myself on. It did not help. The moment I was sheathed inside, the worst possible outcome became a reality. Her eyes fluttered about, clearly confused, as I wished myself to disappear under a rock, and a heavy one at that.

"What's wrong?"

_I do not find you attractive. I would much rather be rolling in the hay with my manservant! You bloody sodding bitch!_

I started to stutter, what was I supposed to say?

"Tis merely a case of wedding night jitters." I said, hoping that my voice sounded firmer than I was at the moment.

With a disappointed sigh she slid off my waist and curled at my side, a devious smile back on her lips. She trailed her fingernails over my chest, circling each nipple before the fingertips slid downwards, tickling my stomach. She bit her lip as her roaming hands descended lower and lower. It took everything in my power not to snap at her that her playing was not helping, that her hands were the wrong size; that her breasts were too large, her hips too curvy, her neck too dainty and slender, to elicit the response she was looking for.

Once more her small, china-white hand was wrapped around me and stroked lightly. I tried to conjure Matthews' face again but it was as if my body had grown wise to the tricks of my mind. Her hand was not upon me long and I startled when she wrapped her lips around me, her small tongue darting around my shaft and head; taking tiny licks and leaving me slick. I leaned my head back on the pillows; grimacing as she continued to try and tease me to attention. Even her mouth was different, sloppily wet and luke-warm where as Matthews' was burning hot and just barely moist as his tongue lapped at the sides; bathing it all in one swipe instead of the hundreds of little ones that she seems to need to an amount of time that seemed painfully long, she had accomplished what I had thought would be impossible. I was stiff again, though I feared it would not last long.

"Christopher, take me." She demanded flatly, and rolled onto her back.

I tried to hide how awkward I felt and got into a better position. I lifted her legs and she wrapped them around my waist. I seemed to have frozen, looking down at her, knowing what needed to be done but unable to do it. She arched her hips up.

"Well, touch me--do something Christopher!" I chewed the insides of my mouth and touched her a little, hating the feel of her parts against my fingers. It was arousing her, but for myself doing the opposite. I stroked myself with my free hand, to save myself from failing her again. After I had pleasured her with my hands for nearly as long as I could bear, she began to grow agitated again. Her fingernails scrabbled at my neck, the tiny crescents biting the flesh.

"Christopher, now...bloody hell--do it!" She writhed beneath me, yowling, like a bitch in heat. I entered her quickly, for a moment still, terrified to move. When I finally did, it happened again. Her scream of frustration filled the room and her claws raked down my chest, she shoved me backwards and cuffed my face like a mad wildcat.

"What is wrong with you!" Her voice seemed akin to nails against glass, and her words reverberated in my ears, the same question I had demanded of myself for years upon years with no way to answer myself. I drew my knees to my chest and curled up into a sitting ball at the end of the bed. My face was afire with my shame, hot tears stung at my eyes and one slipped free, though I quickly palmed it away.

_Katie _

My mind whirled as I tried to think of something that would account for the Duke's failing. Surely it was nothing on my part so it must have lain with him. _Perhaps he did not find me attractive..._ I pushed the thought to back of my mind, scoffing at it. What man would not find me highly desirable? I looked down at the foot of the bed. He was curled up like a child with a nightmare and it would not have surprised me to find that he was crying. Such a woman! I suppose I could have comforted him, but really what would it have accomplished? My wedding night was ruined because he was apparently not man enough to do what many others had offered me before my hands were tied in marriage. Fie! Let him stew in his failure! I rolled over onto my side and pulled the satin sheets up to my neck; wrapping myself as though I was freezing.

I felt the bed shift and I peeked over. He stood at the window now, his naked round backside like a pale moon, as he stared down with one hand on the glass. He looked like a love struck maiden watching her lover ride away. So, let him remain hurt if I was harsh with him, it is of no matter to me. I rolled my eyes in aggravation. Surely there had to be one man on this estate that could please me in such ways.

I did not remember drifting asleep, but next I knew I was waking. I rolled over and yawned. Christopher was not there, his side of the bed empty. My maidservant Melina came to my side with her dark hair coiled around her shoulders. Her eyes flashed and I knew the look of curiosity and what thoughts ran through her mind.

"Was the night well, love?" She asked as I raised my arms above my head, allowing her to lace my corset.

"It is too early to be prodded with ridiculous questions." I bit out at her.

She hunger her head and offered a soft apology as she drew the strings tight. Next came the hoops and petticoat and then a simple day dress. I sighed and followed her to the dining room where I found the Christopher sitting at the table scowling over a plate of breakfast which seemed to be untouched. Well, good for him then if his short comings haunt him so! After all, a woman has only one wedding night and mine was forever named a ruination of all my fantasies.

I swept past him without words and Melina moved a chair out for me, an _ugly_ hideous thing. It would surely have to go, and after all he could not deny me such things after such poor performance. If he did become petty with such things I would make no qualms about using his poor attempt at lovemaking against him. I leaned my chin against my palm and watched him as he stared blankly, my blood boiling hotly through my veins. Not even a good morning from him? I ground my teeth together and was near snapping out at him when a short little troll of a cook left a plate in front of me. I picked at the food, it was simply horrid.

I mimicked my husbands movements and pushed the food back and forth with the silver; snarling when it stuck to the tines of the fork. The sound of knocking rang through the room and my husband excused himself quickly and fairly ran to the door. T'was probably no more than his book keeper coming to look over the ledgers or something equally as boring, yet I rose and followed him slowly. My brows knitted together when I seen naught but servants unpacking luggage; both mine and his. He was talking to Kingston—at least now there is one civilized person for me to talk to--and his valet Christian.

Like a shadow the dark man that had accompanied Christian on the errands to my Uncles' hung back. His eyes were ringed with fatigue but it did not take away from his raw, masculine beauty. I moved out to where my husband was standing and twined our arms and pretended to listen as he gave orders. My eyes however drifted over his help. The fair lot of them were rather handsome; strong backs and large hands. The coachman--Copeland I believe--noticed my attention and straightened up, puffing his chest out with a cocky grin. My lips kicked up in a smirk but it fell away when I spied the two female servants that I had reprimanded the night before. Once again they were hanging off of Matthew; batting their lashes at him and fawning. Matthew pulled each one close and whispered into their ears in turn. Whatever he had said had their faces turning red as they flounced away. Surely he was more skilled in the ways of the bedroom than my husband if he can handle two women at once. I might have to see, some night when my fumbling husband was sleeping, if the dark stallion could handle me.


	8. Chapter 8

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**Chapter 8  
**

_Chris _

In the oncoming weeks, I felt in a dark place. I had hoped our botched wedding night would be the worst, and that from there things would get better, while I knew in the back of my mind it would not be so. I tried again and again to please her and each time my failure made me all the more miserable. I silently cursed myself, wishing for another body, one that would respond correctly to the proper things, not this twisted mistake I had been handed: a damning attraction to the same gender.

That was not my only worry, for Katie Lea was nearly turning my manor upside down, and inside out. During the day she bossed my staff, driving my poor lovely cook to tears on more than one occasion. I had seen her once curled on the steps, mopping her eyes with her cap, as Darla tried to comfort her. She was stirring my whole household and making for a tense, strained, atmosphere. My home had seemed to lose the comfort I had before took refuge in. She was like some great crow which had descended upon my life.

Even many of my personal belongings had been done away with and replaced. I had tried to bite back my protests, not wanting to incite her wrath, yet when she insisted on replacing some of my most prized items we exploded into a grand argument that had some of the servants huddled in the doorway, hands too their lips as they took in the scene. Katie put an end to the tiff by wounding me with her yelling about my intimate failure--her screeches made it known to all staff that was present. She huffed away, and I slinked away as I wished for a hole to burry myself.

Since our wedding night I had taken Matthew only once, my frustrations overwhelmed me, and I needed some sort of relief or I feared I would lose my mind. But this morn after, I found myself hiding in the study to avoid Katie Lea, and my thoughts turned over Matthew and the way I forced myself upon him, from time to time. He was my slave, and therefore my property to do with as I wished. However, I had never seen any of those in my servitude as property, I had treated them all as human, though he required none of my graciousness especially when he grumped and became insolent. Still, guilt began to rise up in my chest as I found myself relating to his position. Just as I was being forced into a live this lie, to be held in the palm of a cold, shrewd, witch--so was I forcing him to my own hand. I wanted him so badly, and the more Katie tried to throw herself at me, and the worse she became, the more I wanted to run to him and shut both of us away and be lost to those moments that made me feel free, alive.

Now, however, I felt that perhaps I should grant the wish of his, to be simply slotted to care for my beasts, and not for my perverse desires. I no longer felt justified in taking him against his will, and having him of his own accord was no more than a fools fantasy. I drew my hand in front of my face, studying the damning gold band that cuffed my finger. The winking light blurred as my eyes welled with tears. I hated her already, I hated what my life was becoming, and in public I hid it all beneath a wide, white, smile.

I was jolted from my thoughts at a screech, and turned to see my beloved cook scurrying past the study door, Darla close on her heels. Sighing, I followed them out. The raven haired cook threw her cap to the ground and stomped on it, her face wet with tears, an enraged cry tearing from her throat.

"That--that--fiend!" She screamed, her fists balling at her sides.

"Wot now dear?" Darla asked, taking her hands and uncurling them.

"She 'as done naught but complain of me food, ne'er 'ave I been so upset! She's made threat to release me from service, m'lord!" She turned her tearful eyes to me, and I went to her and stepped between the two. I smiled and took her hands in my own. " 'Ave I not always served you well, dear Sir? Please I beg of ya, don't let her put me out!"

I looked between the two girls and knew that what I was about to do would send my _lovely_ wife into yet another set of hysterics.

"Of course not my dear, I wouldn't dream of releasing you." I wrapped her in my arms, surprised that I didn't feel the revulsion that I felt when I held Katie Lea thusly, though there was nothing more than an ease of friendship. "Would you rather I send you back to the townhome?"

Her eyes were filled with tears and she shook her head, and I fought the small pang of jealously for knowing why—because of Matthew. "Well then, take the rest of the day and spend it doing whatever it is you wish. I shall straighten out this mess." I said sternly. I wished I could talk to Kaite Lea and have her obey me the same as those in my employ.

Jezebel bounded off towards the quarters and I waved Darla away, sending her back to her duties before my wife thought she was skimping on them and threatened to put her out too. As I headed into the kitchen I noted Matthew lounging on one of the chairs while Big Paul sat next to him, bowls of soup sitting in front of them. I swallowed and beckoned him outside, it was now or never for what I wanted to say and I only prayed that no one stumbled upon us. I heard him grumble as I took him round the side of the house and forced myself to look everywhere but at him. I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to say what I needed to say. Once we were secluded I cleared my throat and worked my face into a neutral expression before I spoke.

"Matthew from this day on you are solely to work with the horses. Your other service to me is no longer needed." Before he could utter one word I turned on my heel and left him to his devices, a piece of me feeling as if it curled up and died in my chest.

_Matt _

I stood there stupidly, my brow drawn together as I stared after him. Yet the more I thought about it, the more it confused me and even stung a little. I started to go after him, wanting--no needing to know, but I stopped myself. He had just given me what I had been praying for. No longer did I have to suffer his hands on my body, touching and teasing before bending me to his will. With a smirk I was not sure was completely genuine I headed back into the manor. Big Paul still sat at the table, but instead of steadily dipping his spoon in the soup his large hands were clapped over his ears. I went to ask him why but as I opened my mouth the most horrified screeching noise I could ever dream of filled the air followed by the Duke's yelling.

"Damn it, this is my house and I do the hiring of the servants! Ms. Piper has been naught but the most faithful of cooks and I will not have you stepping on my toe when it comes to the running of the house."

"Excuse me _M'Lord_," The single word held more hate than I could ever muster and I unwillingly congratulated her on it. "But I thought that the running of the household fell to me now that we are wed." There came a strangled sounding cry followed by the sounds of doors slamming shut. Moments later the Duchess came into the kitchen. Her eyes swept over Big Paul and I in turns; although the feel of her gazing at me made my skin crawl. I suddenly desired to be else where. I left my bowl on the table and knew that not only Jezebel but Darla would be after me for it, but I had to get out of there. I headed to the stables and took a deep breath of my new found freedom yet feeling oddly unfulfilled by it.  
The day passed on, with my head pounded sorer and sorer from the Duchess' shouting. By the time evening drew on the landscaped was painted in shadows, and I was tucked away in my quarters. I considered paying Jezebel a visit to cheer her up. I pulled my hair over my shoulder and began to unweave the braid. The dark strands spilled out in tight curls. My thoughts began to shift back to the Duke, and I was nearly startled at a knock on my door. Perhaps Master had changed his mind, his will being too weak to with hold his desires. I stalked across the small room and jerked the door open. My mouth snapped closed when I saw it was not Duke Irvine who stood before me, the moon glowing in his golden hair, but nay the other, darker half. T'was the Lady Katherine, her dark eyes shifty in the shadows. Before I could speak she had swept inside, pushing me out of the way and shutting the door tight.

"Matthew, pray tell you can quench my thrist..." She growled out, low and lustful as she advanced on me. I blinked back at her in confusion, stuttering as her hands pulled her raven hair over her shoulders like an unruly mane.

"T-thirst m'lady? You're rather far from the kitchen for something to quench your thirst." She laughed, a nerve grating sound and slowly started towards me again, her hands finally resting on my chest.

"Silly boy, I'm right where I need to be to be quenched." Her last word was accented by her

hands gripping my manhood and stroking it through the linen of my trousers. I swallowed and gripped her wrist and removed it from my person. "M'lady I fear that there is nothing in here that can quench that particular thirst you have."  
She stamped her foot and her face screwed into an awful scowl.

"I shan't find it in that--that failure of a man." She bit out, still advancing, literally stepping on my toes. "But you, you seem to be quite different. You are always with a lady or two hanging about. I'm sure you would enjoy my company thrice more than that of those annoying, common little kitchen flies." She wrinkled her nose, then shook the ill look away and replaced it by a coy smile. "Not to fret love, the Duke would not know of our dalliances. Besides, what else would he expect? A lady must take her pleasure where it can be found, and my poor, pitiful, dolt of a husband is just not...'up' to the task."

Her hands were once more groping me through my clothes; making me feel dirtier than a long day shoveling out the stalls. My mouth worked, words swirled in my mind to hurl at her so that she would take her hands from me. Not only did I not want her to touch me but I found myself feeling rather angry at the way she spoke of the Duke. I may not have liked him but I would never have spoke ill of him; he has been kind to me even during my most terrible of tantrums.

"M'lady, I do not fear the Duke finding out for it will not happen. I'm sorry to disappoint you but I find myself not being 'up' to performing this evening. My two 'common kitchen flies' have quite worn me out and I am looking forwards to naught but the feel of my mattress beneath my aching bones." Once more she screeched and this time I did cover my ears and prayed that they weren't bleeding. She looked as if she was going to slap me and I braced myself for the blow but instead she glared and then flounced away.

I was now more flummoxed than before, as I lowered myself to my downy mattress. Surely with her cold treatment, the Duke would be running to me more oft than before even, and yet he had ended our affairs entirely. I should have been glad and unconcerned over the details, and yet, it did not seem right.

A soft knock sounded on my door and once more I dragged myself from my bed, my body feeling its 30 odd years and then some as bones cracked and popped as I moved. I opened the door slowly and closed my eyes as I pictured the Duchess standing there once more. Instead it was Jezebel, a smile on her pretty face as she looked up at me. In her hands was a covered plate and my stomach reminded me that I had in fact skipped dinner that evening. With a smile I let her in and moved over and sat down on the mattress as she bustled about my small room; putting things to right as I dug in. As I chewed on the cold pheasant I watched her, noting how her clothes clung to her body yet I could not bring myself to think anymore. She turned to me, still smiling and climbed into my lap, setting the cold meat back down on the silver plate.

"I've missed ye today Matthew." She purred as her fingers worked themselves into my mane. The normally soothing feeling sent shivers down my back, but the not the kind that I was used to getting.

"Jezzy, I'm not feeling well tonight." I said gently as I moved her to the side and kissed her nose as she pouted at me.

Darla came and seen you earlier didn't she love?" She asked. I laughed and shook my head. "Verily no. I haven't seen her about at all today." That seemed to appease her and she settled down, her hands lying restless in her lap.  
"Then it must be the Duchess and her 'orrible squawking has you feelin' ill! Me own pretty little head is still ringin' with it. The good Duke certainly picked 'imself a fine harpy. Wot he seen in her, I can't tell. She reminds of a great, belowin' bird, flappin' about, she does!" I laughed at her as she scowled and waved her arms about, comically miming a flutter of wings.

"That she does my love. I do thank you for the food, but I think you had better find your way back to your quarters for the night." She pouted but got up and I patted her backside, earning myself a playful smile as she left. I finished off my meal and set the plate on the small table that I had confiscated from the barn. As I laid there my eyes became heavy and yet at the same time my mind kept running back over what the Duke had said and how things did not seem to add up. The only logical thing that came to mind was that he had found another to sate his desires; someone more pliant that would not fight him tooth and nail. I growled and flipped over to my side and willed myself to sleep.

_Chris_

I was curled under the silky covers, my mind beginning to drift away on the edges of sleep, when my solar was invaded. I groaned and wished to duck my head beneath the covers. The day had been long, full of turmoil and tension. I felt the bed dip, and her hands gripped my shoulders hard, rolling me over. She straddled me, and started an assault on my neck.

"Katherine..." I sighed out. She ravaged my exposed flesh as it burned from embarrassment, knowing that this repetitive effort for us to make love would have the same outcome as the ones prior.

"Shut up, I did not come to you to hear you speak!" She bit out at me and closed my words off by pressing her lips to mine and biting. I tasted blood and urged her back. She screamed, and brought her fists crashing into my chest in her rage.

"Stop it!" I pushed her away from me and escaped from the bed, she followed shortly after me.  
"You're going nowhere! I demand you stay in this bed until you can get that pathetic thing of yours to respond! I did not marry to become celibate!"

"I did not marry to be treated as dog!" I shouted back as my anger boiled over.

"Nay, not a dog. Even a surly stray dog can please its mate!" She spat.

I bit my tongue, keeping harsh words at bay, and trying for something softer to just get her to leave me be.

"Just go to bed...love...and perhaps tomorrow night--"

Her open palm rang hard against my face and cocked my head to the side. My eyes flew wide in shock.

"Why would tomorrow night be any different from the rest! You're pathetic!" She continued to spit, as her open slaps became solid punches, and I threw my arms to my face in defense. "Look at you--woman!" She screamed.

"I--I will not tolerate such ba-barbarism in my own home!" I defended, ducking her wild fists.

"I do not care what you tolerate, and what you do not! OUT!" She shrieked and backed me towards the door. Our argument somehow made it from my solar and down the marble stairs, and into the kitchen. By the time my back was against the door, I barely knew where I was. Her insults and fists ripped through me, my failures rubbed in my face again and again until I felt as small as a bug, no more than a clod of dirt ground under her shoe. When her rain of terror finally subsided, I cautiously lowered my arms. My face was hot and streaked with tears that only made me feel like even less of a man, but I couldn't stop them from falling anymore.

"Unbelievable." She muttered. "Get out of my sight, woman!" She opened the door, and before I could get my bearings her hands were planted firmly into my chest.

She shoved me. I stumbled backwards, my foot awkwardly caught the step and all my weight came down at an odd angle, the pain sudden and intense as my ankle rolled, and threw me onto the wet ground. I tried to scramble back up to the door, crawling on my knees and scraping the skin. I banged on the door, and pulled on the knob but the door would not move. She had probably shoved a chair under the knob or something, and there I was cast out of my own home, wet and cold in my nightshirt, my ankle throbbing with pain, my own yell echoing through my ears.

I ran my hand over my eyes and tried angrily to smear away the tears, only getting the gritty feel of dirt wiped across my face. I battled my hair out of my face and got up, gingerly testing my painful ankle. I tried desperately to swallow back my tears as I limped to the barn like a kicked and injured dog. Humiliated, ashamed, I crawled into the barn and slid down into a corner near a lump of straw for the horses. In the darkness I could hear tiny squeaks and claws scrabbling, mice no doubt, and when one scampered over my bare toes I let out a startled cry. Dissolving into tears at my pathetic state, I pulled my knees close to my chest, shivering, hugging them for warmth. I would most likely catch my death out here in the cold, drizzle of rain. Perhaps that would not be the worst fate I could meet.

By and by, my swollen eyes began to slide closed, the bleariness of sleep soon crept over me, and thankfully it dulled the ache of my ankle. I only hoped none of my household would stumble across me in the early morning, slumped against a mound of hay, dirty, disheveled like a common pauper or even lower. I did not even wish for my beloved Christian to see me in such condition—and certainly not Matthew for he would surely be unkind and make a mockery of my misery. And yet, I was here because of him, and as I drifted to sleep, they were his arms which I imagined held me.

_Matt_

I woke again in a cold sweat as I did often, though even as often as the nightmares plagued me, I had never quite grown accustomed to them. The dreams of my childhood, of letting my brother be killed so savagely, nearly always haunted me at night. I sat up in bed and pulled my sticky, dark hair out of my face, and drew the sleeve of my nightshirt over my brow. I took a moment to calm my frantic breathing, and I knew I would not be able to fall asleep again this night. I did what I had been known oft to do when the night was cruel to me.

I slipped from my quarters and went to the barn, the soft sounds of the horses snoring and shuffling their hooves, and the familiar smell, was a calming scene to me. In the darkness I walked past each stall and checked on each beast as he slept standing in the shadows. One, my favorite chestnut, stirred awake and pranced over, the moonlight glistening from her smooth hide. I stroked her shoulder, the feel like velvet beneath my hands. She snorted, pressing her nose into my shoulder, she always made me smile and I patted her snout, speaking to her lowly as her deep brown eyes blinked at me.

"Okay, m'lady be patient and I shall get a treat for you. Don't tell the others." I patted her side and went to the storage where the grain was kept, and drew out a handful of oats. I turned to go back to her, treat in hand, but something caught my bare foot and I went down with and 'oof' meeting the dirt floor of the barn hard enough to scratch skin away from my palms. As I picked myself up, I fancied I heard whimper, and not of animal kind. "Is someone there?" I shouted into the darkness, scrambling for something to arm myself with, just to take precautions. I found a shovel, and hoisted it up ready to do damage to anything unsavory lurking in my masters barn. "Show yourself!" I demanded, and was caught off guard by what answered me, quiet weeping. "Christian? Adam?" I advanced slowly, forgetting the shovel and leaning it against the wall. The sounds had stopped. Whoever made them did not seem to want to be noticed. "Darla?"

Then, in a slant of moonlight, I saw the person belonging to the whimpering. His face was buried in his knees, his blond hair falling round like a veil, but I knew his form, though strange to see him huddled in the corner of the barn like a desperate animal, shivering.

"Master?"

He tilted his head up, just enough to look at me over his knees. His eyes were tired, puffy red, his face streaked with tears and dirt. I was more than shocked to see him that way, so below the regal man he was.

I slowly walked over towards him; acting as if I was approaching a rabid animal. He shrank back from me, a move that had me drawing up short. Cautiously I once more start towards him, kneeling down in front of him and trying to keep my face neutral but the sight of him in that pitiful condition leaves me breathless and wordless. He suddenly scowls and waves his hands at me, his voice wavering as he commands me to leave.

"Go on, go about your night Matthew." I cocked my head. Did he not realize that it was past the witching hour and everyone other that the thieves and highwaymen were abed this time of night.

"Sire..."

"I said leave Matthew." I felt the my resentment at the man creep back into my stomach and I turned to leave; what matter was it of mine if he wanted to spend the night huddled on the cold ground like a common street urchin. Yet the moment I took one step away I heard him sobbing and I knew that I could not leave him there as much as I felt he deserved it. I ignored his protests and picked him up, craddling him bridal style against my chest.

I headed back into my room and sat him down on my bed and stepped back, watching as he bent down to rub at his ankle. Even in the moon light that spilled through my window I could see the swelling and I could only imagine what he felt. I kneeled down once more and took the abused appendage in my hands and winced when he drew in a pained breath. He tried to twist it from my hands but only managed to wrench it more, making him cry out.

"Be still sire, let me wrap it to keep it from moving to much. It looks like nothing more than a sprain."

I got up from my position and rifled through the small chest that sat at the end of my bed and pulled out a stiff roll of leather I used on my own ankle when I twisted it working with the new philly. Gently I lifted his foot, flexing until it was back to a semi normal position. I wrapped it, making myself ignore the hurt filled gasps and whimpers. Finally I got it secured and I lowered the foot back to the floor and watched as he drew himself into a small ball on the bed; looking like a lost child.

"Why Matthew?" He asked, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why what sire?"

"Why would you treat me so kindly after all I have put you through?"

"Sir, even though I despised the things you requested of me, you have treated me fairer than others. For my surly ways I would have surely been beaten many times over, if t'was another in your uplace. Yes, you have been rough at times, but you have never subjected me to a beating, even when I readily deserved it."

I watched his face as he cobalt eyes seemed far away, the sunny lashes jeweled with tears.

"I...I should never have asked such a thing of you, Matthew. I am truly sorry for the burden I have laid upon you in my selfishness. My judgment was clouded by...this--this sickness." His words ended in a sob which he tried to choke back, then muffled by burrying his face into his knees.  
I did not know what to say. I had never thought that he and I would be in the same place talking quietly when a bed was mere inches away and other activities could have easily been partaken of. I sat down next to him and awkwardly took his hand in mine, forcing myself to look past the warm feeling that suddenly blossomed in my stomach at the simple touch. I opened my mouth to say something that would soothe his suffering yet the words that tumbled out were not that. The jumble that my thoughts have been since I heard that afternoon that I was free from his desires instead were voiced.

"M'Lord I must know, why have you set me aside? Is there another?" He brought his head up and stared at me, his jewel tone eyes made darker by the fresh tears that were threatening to fall.

"Of course there is another. I am married and my wi-wife gives me more than I need." His words were weak and I knew he was lying through his teeth.

"I find that hard to believe." I scoffed and thoguht back to the scene earlier where she practically molested me.

"How dare you question me? I do not have to explain my actions to you. You have your freedom now take it and be happy!" He tried to move off the bed but the moment he put weight on his ankle it buckled and he pitched forward. I reached out quickly and pulled him into my lap, biting my lip to keep from sighing as he wiggled around to face me.

"Matthew, let me go, I demand it of you!" He spat, his eyes wide and shimmering.

"I will, when you tell me what I want to know."

"Who are you to give me orders? I'm your master and I demand you let me go."

"I will, once you tell me the truth."

He closed his eyes, seeming to fight internally as silent tears coursed down his hot cheeks.

"I...I can no longer bring myself to subject you to something you do not desire. I--I undertand now." He said quietly. He dropped his eyes from me, his fair brows drawn together, the expression on his face simply miserable. "I can not stand her. She throw herself at me, to-touching, demanding, trying to draw from me things I do not feel. I never imagined it to be so awful! I thought I could pretend but nothing I do, no thoughts I entertain, no matter how bloody ha-ha-hard I try...I...can not...sate her needs. I do not know wha-what is wrong with me! Her words are right, I am pathetic. I am a failure of a man." His last words twisted themselves with his tears, hiccupped out with his sobbing. "Ah! Why am I telling you this, I am at my wits end! I t'would rather crawl into my grave than slink back to her, I have let her lay hands on me, as though I was merely a helpless woman--she has tossed me from my own home! I am miserable, completely. T'would better off if I left you all and met the wrath of God, get a quick start to my damnation..." He trailed off, and closed his eyes, tears falling quietly.

I did not know what possessed me to do it--maybe it was the way he seemed more human--but I tilted his head up and kissed him. Hesitantly at first, I was not quite sure what I was doing or why but I just held him; gently caressing his lips with mine as my hands rubbed light circles on his back. After a couple minutes I pulled away, my own brows furrowed and my lips tingling pleasantly.

"I-I'm sorry m'lord." I sat him down and moved from the bed and paced near the door as I tried to make sense of what I had just done. I hated that man—did I not? I shook my head and opened the door. I turned to him before going through it.

"You can sleep here for the night."

"What about you?" His voice wavered, and not for the first time did I compare him to a woman, only this time it was not mockingly.

"I shall find a haystack to call home tonight."

"Stay with me?" The soft words made me freeze, they were barely audible. My heart was suddenly beating triple time as I thought about lying next to him in the darkness. I wanted to spit some degrading name at him, yet as I opened my mouth to do so, his lower lip trembled and I found myself crawling in next to him; gently wrapping him in my arms.

"Thank you." He whimpered.

I held him until he drifted to sleep, confused as to why I rather enjoyed the feel of his face pressed into my chest and his hair soft against my neck.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

_Matt _

The first rays of dawn slanted across my face. Light pricked my eyes and prompted me to roll over, yet I found that I was unable to do so. Confused I pried one eye open and looked over. My other eye flew open a second later when I saw Duke Irvine curled next to me; his head rested on my chest and his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. For a moment I just laid there as my brain tried to figure out what had happened, but then it all came back.

With a soft sigh I tried to disentangle myself from him but his grip tightened and I could not stop the small smile that lifted my lips. A sudden noise from outside the door wiped it off though, and my eyes widened in terror at the thought of being found in bed with my master. Frantically I shook him, and prayed for him to wake quickly.

"Hmngh." He mumbled sleepily, and stretched his neck so that his lips are near my ear, and his warm, moist breath stirred the hairs there, making me shiver.

"You must get up Sire! Someone's outside my door!" The simple sentence brought his eyes open and I saw the panic surge into their blue depths. A knock sounded at the door and I tried to think of something.

"Quick, yell at me!" I hissed.

"What?"

"Yell at me!"

Christopher began to shout at me, yelling that he had requested my presence in his solar early today, and that I had not shown up. We kept up our farce until the knocking ceased, and cautiously I peeked from the window and noted that whoever had been there had gone. When I turned back to the Duke his face was set in thought as he leaned against the wall to take some pressure off his injured ankle. I bit my lip, and held back any question of what his thoughts were. I went to my bed and began to make it, as I felt the Dukes' cobalt eyes on me. When I glanced back at him he was watching me through his lashes, trying to be discrete, the hard thought still painted over his features

"M'Lord, if it's not too invasive, might I ask what you're thinking about?" I grimaced, it sounded as if Christian had asked the question, but I did not say anything else. Part of me was afraid to know what his answer was.

For a moment he said nothing, and I did not think he would answer me. Then, in a small voice, he spoke up. His eyes darted around as though it was difficult for him to look at my face.

"I...you...last night Matthew. You kissed me. Surely it was merely a lapse in judgment." His soft cheeks colored a deep red, as though he was an embarrassed debutante in the presence of her first beau.

I stood there with my face in flames as that particular action resurfaced; my lips against his. It was true, I had kissed him, and yet I still did not know why—what plausible reason was there to justify such a disgusting act? _Although it did not much disgust me, nay it did not disgust me at all._ Nervously I rubbed the back of my neck which suddenly burned with heat. I tried to think of something proper, but nothing came to mind.

"Well, y'see…" I watched as he continued to track each movement I made. "You were hurting and I did not know what to do. I am not very skilled in those types of situations, and when Jezebel or Darla are upset, a kiss always makes them feel better. I thought it would do the same for you seeing as how you seem rather...well I do not have to tell you m'lord, you know already." My face was surely even hotter than before, and I was having a hard time finding something to do with my hands, and yet even in the confusion in my mind I was still able to think about kissing him again. In fact, his lips looked invitingly soft in the early morning light and--_No, I mustn't think this way! I hate him! HATE HIM! _But if I hated him with such vigor, why was it that I drew near him again, so close that I could have reached my fingers out and brushed them against the petal-soft skin of his cheek. He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and somehow it stung me just a little.

"You are kinder to me than my own wife, Matthew."

I saw tears rim his eyes and hang on his golden lashes, as jewels of dew cling to sleepy blades of grass in the morn. He cast his forlorn gaze downwards to the dusty floor.

"I-I must go. She will be awake soon and...I must ask her forgiveness. I can not spend every night in your bed, and I am sure that is a relief to you." He added, and forced a small smile.

_Don't start bloody crying, damn it!_

A few tears had leaked out from under his lashes and once more I found myself pulling him close; only this time I kissed the salty drops from his eyes. He just looked so alone, so lost. Confused now more than ever at my actions I stepped back quickly and tossed a linen shirt over my head and left the room, scowling and growling to myself about how stupid I must have appeared to him, as though I had begin to crave his attentions.

I stormed through the stables, and ended up in the forge where I glared at the glowing coals and wished that I could take one and rake the soft feelings that have taken root in my soul away, leaving only a burned mark--another scar to the others. In time, I would forget what caused them and count myself lucky that I had survived whatever had put them there, be it a hand in anger, or a hand in lust.

_Chris_

I sighed, and wiped at my eyes. I felt a complete fool! Surely the unruly Matthew was only toying with me to crush my feelings, as absurd as they were. Bah, _feelings_ for a lowly slave! I was so upset that I must have been over estimating his kindness. After all I had put him through by my hand, he would surely not express genuine concern for me, though the simple actions had made my heart beat faster, and gave me a source of comfort I had never felt before. I ran my hand through my sleep mussed hair, and limped from Matthews' quarters. I had to face the coldness that awaited me inside, wrapped in satin and silk.

I glared down at the ring on my finger, the sun winked from the smooth surface like a smoldering flame, scorching. I looked away from that enslaving symbol, and up over the rolling landscape, shrouded in morning mist; the sky pink and soft as a kittens' nose smeared with cream. I wanted to screw the damn band from my finger and send it soaring into the fog, never to see it again. Of course I did no such thing.

I limped towards my home, and then inside, grateful that it was still too early yet for the staff to be up and about. If they had been, I would certainly be greeted with odd looks and whispers from one ear to another about what I was doing up and about outdoors in only my nightshirt, my ankle bound with leather. I pulled a chair from the table and waited, tracing the dark veins in the wood with my fingertips. I considered going upstairs to greet her, perhaps get my groveling out of the way in private, but the stairs seemed too much of a daunting task. My ankle was already throbbing painfully and by the pressure against the leather strap, I knew it was swelling. I would have Christian help me up to my solar later, and find some story to tell him about what had happened to me, for surely he would be curious, though he would have the discretion not to ask outright. Perhaps I had turned my ankle walking in my sleep. I shrugged. It would do well enough.

Soon the kitchen staff started to trickle in. Jezebel wiped sleep from her eyes and set her cap on her head. Darla trailing after her, her red hair a mess as she wove it with her fingers, a smile on her face. The two ladies nodded courteously to me, and went on about their way; they had other more important things to do this day such trying to stay out of the way of my militant wife.

As if the thought summoned her, she swept into the dinning room amidst a ruffle of silk and gossamer. Her eyes glinted as though something had already displeased her this morn. _Perhaps she had awoken with a stiff toe._ I snorted, and tried to cover it up as a cough. She narrowed her eyes at me and I offered a wan smile but let it slip from my lips as hers curled back in a feral snarl.

I called Darla to me and requested that my breakfast be taken to my study; I had ledgers to look over for the month. It was not a complete lie, although my ledgers could certainly wait. However, my study seemed to be the only place that my _doting wife _would not step foot in, and I wished verily to be hid away from her. I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, walking as well as I could even though it felt as if someone had prodded a white hot poker into my ankle. If the lovely Katie Lea or sweet Darla noticed my limp, neither gave acknowledgement of it.

I had not been in my study long, in fact I had barely gotten through my morning cup of tea, when the harridan that called herself my wife stormed in. Her eyes flashed as she slapped her hands palm down on the smooth top of my desk, jarring my quill and books. I swallowed the last mouthful of the warm liquid, and quirked my eyebrow at her in a way which I hoped was a nonchalant gesture, though deep down I was worried. She was bound to burst out screeching at any moment, revealing more of my short comings as a husband and lover to my household servants.

"Yes my love? Pray tell, is something on your mind Katherine, dearest?" I forced out sweetly.

She moved so she stood next to me, regarding me through the slits of her dark eyes, then bent down and pressed her face close to mine.

"Where did you pass the night?" She hissed.

"I passed the night in Matthews quarters. He was rather surly and unhappy about it, but seeing as how I was tossed from my own home..." I could not help the snap in my voice, and the way my eyes narrowed at her. "I had no choice but to lower myself to such levels." _And I loved every moment I spent with him, you glowering bitch! _For a few tense moments she did nothing but glare at me, her eyes like scorching embers.

"And why am I not to believe you passed the night with one of those--those little whores that spring about your kitchen? The dark one is especially obnoxious. I ought to put her out, the maggot! That red head could go with her, she is just as horrid, and a pagan at that! How can you have such roaches in your employ, filling your house with disease and filth?"

"Now you listen here! Those two _roaches _are worth far more than what I gave for them and are rather dear to me. I will not have you tossing them on their ears because of some petty feminine jealousy!"

Katie Lea's head snapped back, surprise written on her features. To be honest I was rather surprised myself at my words, not one to be surly with her, but I tried not to show it and remain stern.

"Now if you do not mind M'lady, I have ledgers to look over and monthly purchases to make." I turned my eyes back down to my paperwork. Triumph thrilled through my veins, tingling pleasantly. I tried hard not to grin, although I did not wholey accomplish it for she turned on her heel with a shriek and flounced from the room, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her.

I focused my attention back on my ledgers, but it was not held there for long. My mind began to drift back to the horrid events last night with her in my bed, demanding things of me, degrading me when I could not give them. But then I had ended up in Matthew's strong arms as he carried me to his quarters, held me close, and pressed his lips to mine. My fingers hovered over my lips. They tingled with memory of the soft kiss, and I fancied I could still taste the soft petals. For a moment I closed my eyes and remembered the comfort of his warm body next to mine, his dark curls fuzzy and smelling lightly of horses against my nose. It was a scent that was quickly becoming dear to me.

My little daydream was ruined however when the sound of Katie yowling like an enraged she-wolf floated in through the open windows. I pushed away from my desk and watched form the tall windows as she cornered Matthew, her face contorted in anger. He moved out of reach of her hands. I could not hear all that was said, but I had no doubt she was checking my story and part of me prayed that Matthew would tell the truth--or rather a version of it. I continued to watch as the wind caught some of the loose hair that was stuck to his face and tousled it. He raised a hand and smoothed it away as he continued to speak. His answer must have appeased my wife for her expression softened. What happened next had my hand flying to my throat; she pressed against him, and ran her hands over his wide shoulders and down his chest. With a growl I was mere seconds from turning from the window and confronting them, but Matthew shoved her hands away; a grimace on his sun kissed face.

As I watched she screamed again and stormed away, leaving Matthew standing by the doors of the barn shaking his head. Then, as if he could feel my eyes on him, he brought his gaze up and our eyes locked. My face went up in flames as though I was a simpering young girl spying upon the first man she had ever taken a fancy to. I backed away from the window and resumed my seat at my desk; however now my thoughts were more scattered then before as I pictured myself running my hands over Matthew's strong arms and over the well muscled chest, drawing the hoarse sighs and moans from him that I craved to hear, as his hands returned the same pleasure to me.

_Matt _

I stood inside the barn, and angrily ran my hands through my hair before re-braiding it. My thoughts were scattered to the winds, and part of me thought about having the Duke in my arms and how it had not been as bad as I had expected, while the other grimaced about the way the Duchess's hand made my skin crawl. The woman was completely despicable, and even had the Duke not been afflicted with his…unique desires, I doubted even then he would have been able to please the shrew.

With a growl I went back to pitching hay in the stalls and put more muscle behind the tosses, sometimes accidently hitting the horses with it. I mumbled an apology to the poor beast after hay was flung against its shoulder for the third time. After finishing the hay I decided to go out to the corral and work with the newest philly. She was still skittish of the halter lead and the Duke wanted her tamed for the Duchess--although if it were me I would have given her the horse the way it was now and laughed as it pitched her off onto her snooty hind end. I led the gray philly around a bit, though stubborn she was, but soon enough I felt a bit better. The warm sun beat down on my back and glistened from the young horses silvery hide as I worked with her. I offered the headstrong animal gentle pats and words, and forced everything that haunted me from my mind. I was not even aware of Jezebel and Darla watching me from the fence until one of them spoke.

"'Ey Matthew!" Darla called as she smirked and waved. Jezzy giggled and nearly lost her mop cap, but was able to save it with a catch. It was fairly an automatic reaction by now, what with as much as the hat fell from its perch. I left the horse for only a moment and flirted with them, although they were both soon called away by an all too familiar yell, a sound akin to nails raking glass. I grimaced, and kissed each of their hands before shooing them away. They both took off towards the house, Darla's fiery hair fluttering around her pretty face, and Jezebel once again barely saving her cap from falling under her feet. I felt horrible for them really. At least I was lucky enough to have my work outdoors, where her voice rarely reached me.

As they disappeared another even more familiar form slunk out; his blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight like spun gold. I did not think he saw me, his head was down and he hurried as fast as his gimp would carry him into the barn like a theif in the night praying that the moon did not witness his movements. Curious, I entered the barn and watched as he moved over and slid down behind the haystack that he had sat near last night. I did not want to interrupt him but something drew me that way. The hay shifted under my feet and I tried to slow my steps so that I did not sound like a herd of thundering cattle coming across the floor, but he still heard me and called out.

"Who's there?"

I swallowed, I could have just turned around and left, and would have never known who it was but instead I spoke.

"Only I."

He did not reply and I moved around the hay stack so I could see him, furious with myself for even caring, but unable to stop reached for his ankle and rubbed at it, and his lips screwed up for a moment at the pain, but quickly straightened again. His hand went from his ankle to his head.

"I should have wed a mute, or perhaps a mime." He offered, with a lopsided grin. "I'm sure I would not be the only one grateful for at least a moment of silence."

I was able to bite my tongue, and refrained from making any snide remarks about his dear woman.

"I feel I will need a holiday very soon." The Duke muttered as he trailed his hand over his golden plait.

I furrowed my brow, and tried to hold on to the hate that still burned--only it was neither as bright nor as hot as it once had been.

"M'Lord, would a ride please you?" I asked, amd waved my hand over to the horses that were shuffling in their stalls.

He glanced at the horses, and got to his feet. He lipmed over to inspect them, and slightly wrinkled his nose as if he unsure about whether they disgusted him or not.

"I am afraid I do not know how. I have never ridden. I wanted to as a child but Mother Irvine would not have it. She said the dirty stables were no place for me. 'Christopher, you shan't ruin your fine clothes and draw flies!' And then, when I pouted because of it, she warned that my face would be stuck in such a way." He smiled at the memory, and his cobalt eyes glittered. He gently touched the horses hide and the shiny chestnut fur rippled under his fingertips. He quickly drew them away with a startled expression. I laughed, his reaction was too funny.

"Sire, they'll not bite…well as long as they're not provoked."

He raised his eyes to mine and I laughed again which prompted him to scowl at me.

"What if I taught you to ride?" The moment the words left my mouth I snapped my jaw shut, not really believing that I had offered my time to him without being forced to do so. "M'lord, I promise, you'll not fall. We'll start on Springtide over there." I motioned over to the other side where a small grey mare that was munching happily on her oats. "She's gentle enough, and I'll be there to guide her reigns."

He turned his eyes towards her and snorted, some of the old Duke I knew and hated coming back out.

"Matthew, if I'm to ride then I must ride an animal that is on par with my status. What about that one?" He pointed to the chestnut mare that I found myself coddling and I bit my lip.

"Master, she's gentle but not what a learner should ride."

"You said you would be there did you not?"

"Well, yes sir." I nodded.

"Then there is no problem. Betwixt the two of us we should be able to handle the beast."

"Very well, M'lord."

I took the reigns of the chestnut that was called Willow and led her out. She snorted softly and pawed her hooves at the straw and dust. The Duke backed off a little and looked at me questioningly. I patted the horses' nose and she nuzzled, showing her gentleness.

"Help me up then." He commanded as he looked the animal up and down, not at all sure how to mount it.

_As if Lord Irvine needed assistance in mounting anything..._My cheeks burned hotly at that thought but in the shadows of the barn I doubt that he noticed. I linked my fingers together and knelt so he could slip his foot in, in order for me to give him a boost. When he tried, the pressure was too much for his ankle and he lost balance. With a surprised yell, he toppled backwards and on top of me. His rear landed between my legs and I quickly rolled him away. He was laughing, and it caught me off guard.

"Help me up from the dirt, before Mum finds out!"

I shook my head, and gave him my hand and helped him to his feet. He leaned on my shoulder for support; a flash of pain still creased his features when he tried to stand on it again.

"Sire, perhaps you are taxing your injury too much."

He waved his hand at me.

"Nonsense. That pain is less than the scream of her voice in my ears. Now, shall we try again?"

I managed to wrestle him up onto the horse. My hands moviedd over his body awkwardly, and pushed him up, accidently prodding and grabbing his backside in the process. Finally, he was atop the animal, and he looked comically frightened. I rubbed my hands against my breeches. The feel of his round backside against them still lingered oddly against my palms and made my mind race.

"I--excuse me m'lord, I did not mean to handle you so roughly." I offered.

His lips curved into a mischievous smirk and his cobalt eyes danced prettily.

"Not a thought of it, Matthew." He replied, a hint of cheekiness to his answer.

I grabbed the reigns and began to lead her from the barn but stopped when he drew in a hissing breath.

"What's wrong sire?" I asked and looked up at him, and noted that his face was a bright shade of red.

"I-uh...I fear I shall slide off."

I chewed my lip before speaking, my own face burning as I dropped my voice.

"Clamp your legs around her sides, like--like I do to you." The last words were very soft and I was not even sure I had spoken them, but the look on his face told me that they had indeed left my mouth.

He chewed his lip and did as I said, as I ducked my head entirely embarrassed. Bloody hell, what was wrong with me? I shook my head, and led her around a bit more. When I looked up again, I could not help my laughter. The Dukes' eyes were screwed tightly shut and his hands were wrapped in her mane, pulling it so tight, had she not been so gentle a creature she would surely have protested. He opened his eyes and looked at me as I tried to swallow back my laughter. The horse let out a snort and shook her head, and Christopher whimpered and tugged on her mane. She began to get antsy, stomping her hooves and shaking her head.

"Ma-make it stop!" He almost shrieked. "Matthew, will you ride me? Uh...e-excuse me...ri-ride _with _me, or else just get me off. I mean, down."  
_I can do that and more. _My eyes widened and I once more ducked my head, and tried to force those thoughts back into whatever dark place they came from.

"Aye m'lord." I wrapped my hands in Willows' mane and effortlessly swung up behind the Duke, and my legs fell on either side of him, my chest pressed tightly against his back. I swallowed and willed my heart to stop thundering; fearing that he would be able to feel it through our clothing. "Alright, just relax."

Whether the words were for me or him I did not know, but the smell of his hair enfolded me and I closed my eyes as I prodded the animal into a light canter. I bit my lip as our bodies jostled and ground together from the movement. After a few moments, I could feel the tenseness of his body ease, and he was much calmer. His body seemed in fact, to meld against mine. My mind screamed for me to stop, to get down and take help him from the horse as well. This position was far too awkward...but I did not do what that voice yelled for me to do. Instead I eased the horse into a bit faster pace, and together we rode over the grassy expanse of land, the wind dancing through our hair, the Irvine home slowly receding us. As the horses moved over the land, I found that I held him just a bit tighter, and wanted to close my eyes as the motion of the animal moved our bodies in sync. It was a movement that threatened to excite me, and that horrified me more than riding this beast had to my Master.

_Chris _

I was finding it difficult to breathe as the horses hooves fell against the rising and falling land. My thoughts were no longer on the beast beneath us or my fear of falling. I was lost to the way Matthews strong arms held me close, the way his chest rose and fell quickly against my back, the beat of his heart a steady throb, his breath hot against the back of my head. Oh, I could melt into him! What I would not give to stop time and stand it still, to just relive this simple ride again and again. It seemed nearly a fantasy, and I wondered if I had not fallen asleep in the barn and taken to dreaming of him once again. I closed my eyes, and willed the dream to endure, as I enjoyed the breeze against my hot face and his body rocking against mine. My thoughts became a bit more inappropriate as I imagined kneeling in the hidden shadows of the barn, the smell of hay and horses tickling my nose, mingling with the scent of our hot bodies as he caressed me gently, and moved deep inside of me, the way I truly longed to have him.

I opened my eyes and tried to banish those thoughts. I wished not to be plagued by them and only enjoy the moment of closeness. In many ways, just this was better than hot, raw, passion of purely physical pursuits. There was something far more comforting in this, just the gentle way he held me. Bah, surely I was having fever dreams! There was nothing gentle about my Matthew, he would never press close and hold me as such...as a man would hold a woman in a close, swaying, dance…_but he was._

I tried once more to push the bothersome thoughts to the back of my mind; but it was a fool's effort. My body had already betrayed me and I was shifting uncomfortably now, trying to find a spot that did not add to the pressure to my excitement, but only felt the spot between his wide spread legs rub against my backside as I fidgeted.

"Be still M'lord." The words were growled; Matthew's voice rumbled against my chest and sent shivers down my back at the nearness of his lips to my ear. I nodded my head, and swallowed hard as I tried to obey his command but it was of no use, with every thundering hoof beat I felt as if I was going to explode from the contact. Matthew's hard body was plastered against me and moving in ways that I had never experienced with him before, and if I was not mistaken it seemed that I was not the only man who was aroused. Surely, I had lost my damn mind!

I knew what I wanted, yet my face burned even hotter. I had told Matthew that he no longer needed to deal with my attentions, yet I wanted no more than to feel his hands on me; branding me with the heat that always seemed to emanate from the palms. Hesitantly I leaned back further and rested my head against his shoulder and I waited--for what I did not know, but I waited.

The gentle feel of his lips on my exposed neck made me jump and I nearly toppled from the speeding animal. I had no doubt that I would have if Matthew had not let go of the reigns and wrapped his muscled arms about my waist tightly. He pulled me close and his body pressed tightly against my back, every hard plane of his being exciting me, as he breathed in my ear raggedly.

"Ma-Matthew!" I gasped out, unable to stop the breathiness as my heart fluttered. "Perhaps...perhaps we should..." I could not finish, my voice was lodged in my throat and refused to work properly. "Perhaps we should...slow down." Matthews' breath came hot against my neck and I could not help myself as my back arched. "Ple-ease, love—oh!"

His arms clamped around my waist and I feared for a moment that he was going to pitch me from the horse; yet a moment later I felt the animal slow to a jerky walk and then to a stop. My breathing still came fast and my heart felt as if it were going rip from my chest, for it was thundering so loud. Matthew moved me so I found myself facing him; his dark eyes burned as they swept my face.

"What have you done to me?" It was a plea, and before I could even entertain a reply his lips crashed down over mine. His tongue forcefully thrust past them and swept around the hot cavern of my mouth. His rough fingers tugged at my braid and pulled it free, and sent it billowing about our faces while the other hand moved to the back of my neck and pressed our lips together until our teeth clacked desperately and my lungs ached for air. As suddenly as he started it he pulled away, and licked his lips. He stared down at me with a mixture of confusion and fear molding his face.

"M-m-m'Lord, I-I-I-I...."

I had nothing to say, I could not figure how to put words together. I just stared at him, my eyes and mind both clouded and wishing for him to continue. My lips were perfectly, pleasantly, swollen and they tingled with the lingering of our kiss. I did not prod him, I just waited, feeling that I would break to pieces if he stopped, the rational part of my mind only a small whisper which told me that _of course_ he would stop. _Please don't!_

My shaking hands gripped his shoulders as the shook her head and neighed softly. Everything seemed to be still and silent, my world seemed precariously balanced on a cliff edge, and I was ready to fall into Matthew and forget everything, just fall into his warm embrace.

"Perhaps we should turn and go back." He suggested; his voice raw and rough as he shifted his eyes from me. I wanted to plead with him to go on, but I knew that he was right; we needed to go back--to put this behind us and move on in different directions. Yet his words and his actions did not meet and bond. He bent towards me, and his lovely lips hovered just scant inches from mine and his eyes—his eyes were full of raging desire and need.

"Do you want me m'lord?" He asked quietly.

I chewed my lip, everything inside me seemed to tear apart. I knew what I must tell him, but I did not want to tell him what was right, I wanted to urge him on to the sate my passions. My eyes stung with tears as I tried to figure what to say--damn it! I found myself again wishing I was not stricken with such obscene desires. I glanced away from him as slow tears trickled from my eyes. Hurriedly I wiped them against my hand.

"I can not deny it, I--my desire for you is as if a spell--as if you have bewitched me. Yes, I want you, more than my inadequate words can express."

The next words from his mouth stopped me, and made me doubt my hearing.

"I—I want you as well." I just stared; open mouthed--there was no way that he had spoken those words and truly meant them. My Matthew was a fighter, he was the fire in brimstone that reminded me that what we did was wrong--was punishable by death and damnation—yet here he was—doing—saying—what?

"W-what say you Matthew?" My voice was barely audible as if it would break the spell if it went above a whisper.

"Take me, if you desire me." I wanted to believe it, and yet I could not--it had to be a dream! Matthew would never say those words to me!

"Do you know what you ask?" I gasped out, still in shock at his words. His answer was not in the form of a worded reply, but came when his lips again met mine, and stole away the moan that escaped them. Our tongues mingled, slick and warm, so perfect against each other. He slipped from the horse and pulled me down after him, and held me against his chest as our lips collided again and again giving and taking slowly, the wet sounds of our mouths caressing and sending waves of pleasure over every part of my being. Oh! I was so glad that he held me in his strong arms, for surely my own legs had turned to water as we lost ourselves in one another.

"Matthew..." I parted our lips, barely, enough only for me to speak quickly and with jerky words. "Would you...would you have me?"

My voice sounded strangely mousey as I asked the question and ran my hands over his tunic, his body hard and hot underneath begging to be touched and pressed against mine. I feared he would say no, and perhaps it would have been best. I was his Master after all and to give him that kind of power over me--but I _wanted it_ horribly. I moved my lips to his ear, nipping with my teeth.

"I would give you that power over me, but it seems you have already taken it from me, and asserted your own. Oh, Matthew…you make me so weak!"

In part, I felt foolish babbling such things to him as was accounted for by the flame in my cheeks—but they were all truth—and in this moment I did not care if he were to laugh at me, or call me a woman. I had been called much worse by people I had cared for much less.

"S-sire?" Matthew stuttered out, his eyes wide as he stared at me.

"I told you that I no longer wanted to force you to my will..." My words trailed off as I tried to find the right ones to get my point across. "W-would you...." I swallowed and fought with myself to say what was on the tip of my tongue. "If for once our roles were switched--if it were I on my knees?"

I waited, my body tensed as I hesitantly ran my hands down to his waist, and stopped for a moment before I ghosting my fingers across the tightness that wanted to rip his breeches at the seams.

"M'Lord...."

I dropped my eyes, and my face must have colored ten shades deeper than it had been.

"What if I were to demand it of you?" I brought my eyes up locking with his as I slowly slid to the grassy ground, and my hands moved down his strong thighs. "What say you Matthew?" I fairly whimpered as my heart raced and threatened to stop completely as I awaited his answer.

"Is it what you wish M'lord?" Matthew finally answered. His voice was no steadier than mine and his eyes smoldered as they looked down upon me. I took in a deep breath I nodded.

"Take me Matthew, I'm yours."

Hesitantly he threaded his fingers in my hair, his nails scratched deliciously against the scalp. I watched transfixed as he fumbled with his breeches. His fingers nervously knotted the string. I slid my hands back up his thighs and over his groin, whimpering when it twitched against my palm but I forced my fingers to pluck at the snarled leather cording, finally getting it free and slowly--as if I were untying a package--slid the soft tan material down his strong legs.

I closed my eyes, and suddenly felt like a complete virgin, and this were my prized wedding night. My face grew hotter, and my hands shook as I moved them over his impressive girth. I trailed a finger underneath and found the sensitive vein which made Matthew moan aloud. It was an intoxicating sound and I bit my lip as I did it again, and this time got a growl from the dark haired devil. His fingers tightened and he guided my head towards him a bit; silently telling me what he wanted.

My mouth slid warmly over him and cradled that sensitive part of him against my tongue. It was a wonderful feeling, tasting him, feeling him, as I moved my mouth and mimicked things that had given me pleasure. His fingers tangled in my hair and moved my head. The action forced me to take him deeper. Very soon he cried out and tensed with release, as I reveled in the motion of our movements and the mingling of our bodies. I pulled away from him, and my mouth left him with a wet pop. He griped my chin and our eyes collided, fire and ice.

"Wha-what--" He was frustrated that I had stopped. I grinned up at him, my lips wet with the pearly essence that had begun to leak from him. I pulled him down on top of me, he with a startled cry, my back was pressed against the soft grass, and my legs wrapped around his waist. I sealed our lips together.

He needed no more encouragement after that and my mind hazed over as his hands whisked my breeches down, and our arousals prodded each other as our bodies seemed to seal together from the sweat on our skin.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice husky with desire. His eyes danced with flames that I wanted to consume me and leave me writhing. Mutely I nodded, and I gasped as he carefully worked himself into me. My fingers bit his shoulders, my breath caught in my chest, as I took the pain that soon blossomed into pleasure as he went deeper and deeper until I was completely filled with him. I cried out and arched my back, my eyes rolled blissfully as he slowly thrust in and out; hitting a spot deep inside that seemed to send lightening flying through my veins with each movement. His burning hands moved under me and changed our angle a bit, and each long stroke struck that spot within, so intensely, so wonderfully! There was no way to describe how it felt, but if I had to pay an eternity or even a thousand eternities in the brimstone belly of hell—then so be it! Such a price was nothing to pay for this piece of forbidden heaven.

Soon stars were dancing before my eyes and I closed them; crying out as my body exploded, splashing Matthew with my essence as my being shuddered and convulsed. As I was coming down, floating somewhere between us on gossamer clouds, Matthew cried out and plunged in one last time, and his own release welled hotly, deep inside of me. His eyes closed and I held my breath; fearing what was going to happen now: afraid he would regret it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Chris _

It had been days since the outing with Matthew and I still found myself thinking over what had transpired. Sometimes I lost myself so completely that a whimper escaped me before I realized it. The ride back had been rather nice, his arms had circled my waist, and held me close as his breath ghosted in my ear and made me shiver, as no one had ever made me shiver before. I had hesitantly slid my hands over his thighs; finding myself enthralled with how the simple touch made him tremble.

When the house was visible from the top of the hill Matthew had dismounted and grabbed the reigns, leading the horse and I back to the barn and then helping me dismount. Some time during his walk, something had changed; his demeanor towards me was formal again and he refused to meet my eyes. I wanted to ask what had happened and had even opened my mouth to do so, but we had been interrupted by Katie Lea; her voice ringing through the barn and frightening the poor horse we had ridden. I had yelped as it reared and for a moment Matthew wrapped his arms back around me and pulled me close before releasing me and tending to the animal. Upon further thought, I realized that Matthew was merely pulling me out of the way of Willow's hooves and not holding me close because of my fear.

The rest of the day I spent in my study trying to drone out the sound of Katie Lea's voice as she circled the room spouting off about the ball she wanted to throw. I had irritably snapped at her that I did not care what she did as long as it didn't bring shame upon our name or our home, although I knew with my dalliances, it would be I who had the greatest chance of ruining the Irvine name, should it ever be known where my desires truly lay—in that shameful, forbidden place that I couldn't escape.

She was running around making plans now about the damned ball, and I cringed to think of all those parasites filling my home, touching, perhaps breaking my things, although many of my own possessions were slowly being replaced by things Lady Katherine felt suited the manor better. Well, at least I had Matthew, or did I? Of course I did not _have_ him, not the way I truly desired. I _wished_ to have him.

But now I feared that what we had done as the horse stood nibbling at the windy grass--as much as it meant to me--had possibly ruined anything we could have ever had. Perhaps there was nothing there anyway, only a fools hope of a forbidden romance, that could have become a blossom of love in this desolate life that has seemed to envelope me.

With a sigh I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and went to the window, the floor icy against my bare feet. My ankle was a bit stiff, still wrapped, but it was no longer bothersome. There were other things that plagued me and so much so, that I had feigned being ill this morn just so I could have a reasonable excuse to stay holed up, by myself. I pressed my hand to the glass and looked out over my estate, over the rolling hills Matt and I had ridden over. I closed my eyes, and felt the soft sun rays against my skin, the breeze fluttering my hair. What have I done? The purchase of this man had surely been my undoing. The things I desired had changed from pure lust, to yearning for that man's heart, and that he would hold mine just the same.

I fear my emotions have long ago ran away with me, and my intentions will never be met. Even if he was to warm to me, to one day truly return my affections, well I am a married man, and our society hangs men such as I. Sometimes, I think I can feel the rope, already burning against my throat, choking.

I sighed as my sight swept over the green hills once more, over the orchard, to where I noticed Matthew, reclining under a majestic old tree. I could not make him out in detail, but in my mind I imaginedthe sun filtering through the golden-green leaves and dappling his olive-tan face with light. I smiled a little, but if felt entirely sad. His hair was down, I could see it lying on his shoulders and for the briefest moment I fancied that I could feel the silken locks against my face. I shook my head and moved away from the window, pushing all the errant thoughts to the back of my mind and moving over towards the wardrobe.

I had sent Christian and Adam to the local farmers market to do the running for Katie Lea so I just chose a plain linen shirt and slipped it over my head, the satiny fabric whispered against my skin and with wry smile I pictured walking out and joining Matthew under his tree, lounging like I was nothing more than a servant ducking my duties. Of course that thought was chased away by the fact that Matthew would probably get up and leave; his honeyed voice silent as he hurried away.

I pulled my hair back from my face and secured it in a bundle at the nape of my neck then padded out into the hallway, passing Darla as she hurried on some mission that I'm sure Katie Lea put her too to keep her away from Matthew or whatever male help Kaite Lea thought she was sneaking around with on her free time, as though it were business of my wife anyway.

The kitchen was deserted so I nosed around and found a loaf of bread, still warm, on the counter. I pulled off a hunk of it and seated myself at the table and chewed thoughtfully on it as I tried to sort things out in my mind. As I thought over these things, the back door slammed, and Jezebel crumpled at the table. She pulled her mop cap from her head and dabbed at her eyes with it, as tears streaked her face.

"Jezebel? What is the meaning of this?" I asked, moving closer to her. She sniffled and blew her nose onto her cap.

"Oh, 'tis nothin' m'lord."

I watched her face, noting it was white as lace, and that her hands trembled. One of them went to her lips. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then just sat still, as though waiting for some feeling to pass.

"My dear, are you ill?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she quickly got to her feet. She dabbed at her eyes one last time, and put her cap back on, wet and splotchy with her tears.

"Nay m'lord."

She spoke weakly, and quickly went to the stove.

"You ain't taken breakfast yet m'lord. What would ye like?"

I got up from my seat and gently took the iron pan from her shaking hands.

"Jezebel, you are ill. Have the day to yourself and lay down--"

She pulled her hands from mine quickly, fearfully, as though my touch had burned her.

"M'lord, please! T'will feel better once the morn' wears on." Her voice was almost a shriek as she reached for the utensil in my hand. I held it back from her. "Lord Irvine sir, Lady Katherine 'as given me orders to go 'bout with me work..." With a tearful sigh, she rubbed at her cheek. I moved her hair aside, and was furious to see her pale face printed with purple. Her eyes met mine and locked for a moment, they were tired and red from her crying.

"Miss Piper, did Lady Katherine?" I trailed off as she took her cap once more from her head and dabbed at her eyes; silvery tracks crawling down her cheeks and staining the collar of her uniform. She nodded, and dropped her eyes; her hair once more curtaining her face from view.

"She says I ain't workin' as hard as the otherns and that I ain't s'ard to replace with some'ne else. But y'see m'lord I've been ill these past few morns.....more 'n likely some bug wots been past about...an' I slept late today by mistake." She stopped and her shoulders trembled as a soft sob escaped her lips. "I guess t'was all fault of me own...forgive me sir."

My blood started to slowly heat, I have never treated my servants as such--_other than Matthew yet it wasn't as if I left horrible marks on him _a voice in the back of my head piped up—besides, Matthew was a brazen stallion, defiant and strong willed, not a small, meek, woman who had never shown me a bit of trouble in all the years she had been in my household. I brushed the stray thought away and patted her on her back.

"Go and take the day off, and if anyone dares question you about it, you send them to me."

Her eyes welled with tears and she hugged me tight before dashing out the door and across the yard, her skirt trailing behind her. Glowering I started through the house, intent on finding my _dear wife _and taking her to task for what she had done to my poor cook.

I came upon her in the library, where she sat boredly in a horrid looking chair--she'd replaced my favorite with one she fancied better, and it was awful. Her presence did not make it any more appealing. She flipped pages, and yawned. Without looking up, she spoke, recognizing the sound of my shoes against the marble.

"Christopher, I want to go in town tonight. I simply cannot take another dull evening with a book on my knee...and a cold bed." With her last barb, she glanced up from her pages, her dark eyes sharp and cold like hard fangs of ice. I met her stony gaze with my own. Her words had only made me angrier, yet when her eyes pierced mine it was a struggle to not glance at my toes. It was just her way, to make everyone feel as though they were merely inches tall, and ready to be ground to powder under her heel. I squared my shoulders, and started in, not bothering to give her an answer to her demand.

"Katherine, _dearest_..." Her name in my mouth felt as a thorn, and tasted like bile. "Suppose you explain to me, why my dear cook is in tears, with marks upon her cheek? I have never had a harsh word with her, she has always been good and faithful in her service, and I have said to you not once, but many times over, that _I _am to handle such affairs. You are not to lay a hand on any of those in my employ. If there is a concern, it is to be brought before the man of this estate!"

"_Man _of the estate?" She glanced me up and down, and scoffed. "I do not see one."

The need to look down, hurt by her words, was almost overwhelming but somehow I managed to keep my eyes on her face; my lips curled slightly downwards.

"Just because _you _do not see one does not mean that one does not reside here."

She quirked her eyebrows at me and made a rather uneffeminate sounding noise.

"If there is a man on this estate he resides in your stables, or perhaps in the servants quarters."

My hands clenched at my sides and my response was growled.

"Lady Katherine, you are not to lay a hand on my help again, in fact they are not to report to you but to me. They have been given their orders." I turned on my heel and stormed from the room; ignoring the small twinges of pain that were flaring in my ankle with each angered step. I heard a loud 'slap' sound as most likely her book went flying and bouncing from the wall. That was followed by one of her trademark shrieks, that only got quieter when I was downstairs, propping my ankle on my sofa. At least she had not hauled that out as of yet. It's time in my possession was most likely numbered, however, seeing as how she seemed to dislike everything I owned. I plucked up one of the gold and olive embroidered pillows and hugged it to my chest. A smile half-curved my lips as I entertained the thought of arsenic, and tea, and Lady Katherine's tea cup. I laughed into the pillow, although as much as I loathed her, that plan would never come to fruition. But at least it was an entertaining notion.

I had started to drift around the edges of sleep, as I listened to the sounds of Darla moving and messing about the kitchen, sometimes muttering to herself or humming a snippet of some song or another. The soft sound of her voice was lulling me to sleep, but it was not long before it was replaced by a less pleasant one: the wife.

I sensed her presence before I heard her. I opened my eyes, knowing I was being stared down, and saw Katie standing at the end of the sofa, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and her lips disappeared into a thin, angry line.

"Christopher, I said earlier in the library that I wanted to go out tonight. Did you not hear me?" She snipped. I yawned.

"How could I not hear you, love, as much as you shriek?" I smirked. Her mouth dropped into an 'O' of shock and offense. "But my dear, tonight will not do. Layfield has invited me out for a night at the gentlemans club."

Her face screwed up as if she had sucked on a lemon and I waited paitently for her reply; my small nap having given me a little more patience to deal with her. She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it back closed and stomped away; leaving me smirking on the couch. Of course that wasn't to last, now I had to send word to Layfield about getting together this eve. With a sigh I removed myself from the couch and hurried to my study to pen a quick missive for Copeland to deliver for me. I wasn't too worried about Layfield declining the invite. That man was always up for drinks.

_Matt _

The day had finally drawn to a close and for that I was glad. It seemed like no matter what I did my thoughts were interrupted and then swayed away by what happened on the ride. It got so bad that Big Paul cuffed me when I drifted off while shoeing one of the horses. Later, he had apologized and invited me to a game of Poker that evening.

As I headed across the yard to the servants quarters I found myself looking forward to it. Of course, I was surprised when I walked in, to see Darla sitting at the table with a large smirk on her lips as she shuffled the cards. Next to her sat Big Paul and then Christian. She motioned me to take a seat then turned her attention back to the cards; grinning as she outlined the game. I quirked my eyebrow, she seemed to know a lot about it for a woman, and it reminded me why I spent some of my free time with her.

The first hand was over quickly, Paul winning it and braying loudly as Christian grumbled and tossed his cards at Darla; accusing her of favoritism. After a while though I was once more lost to my thoughts, away from the game. Christian and Paul had gotten into an argument and Darla was trying to keep them from beating the hell out of one another. Unfortunately that led me to thinking about the ride again, for some reason or another.

"Matthew, wot's dancin' round that 'ead a'yours?" Darla snapped her fingers in front of my face, and I blinked back into the Poker game--or what was left of it which was Christian and Paul arguing. I wondered for a moment why Christian bothered arguing with someone as big as Paul, it seemed futile.

"Hm?" I flinched when Darla slid into my lap.

"Wots' eatin' you love?" She asked, trailing her fingers through my hair. I held her green eyed gaze, a fiery emerald, which morphed into a beautiful dark, shimmering, blue the color of a deep lake, the surface catching the sun. They were no longer her eyes, but the eyes of my Master. No longer did they hold the stern command they had once, but they were soft and pleading with me. His lips softly touched mine, but then they weren't his lips at all. They were different, but still I knew them. They were Darla's of course. I kissed her back a little, then broke the seal.

"I'm just tired from a long days work, nothing more." I said quickly. She narrowed her eyes at me. I knew she did not believe me, but she was gracious enough to let it go.

"Awright then, me dear." She said softly, and left one last peck before she removed herself from my lap, and stomped over to yell again at Paul and Christian who were toe to toe an bellowing--if one had not been more than a foot towering above the other, they would have also been nose to nose. The scene was almost too amusing.

Darla was no taller than Christian's chest, and yet she was in the middle of the fight as though she was ten times their size. It was as if she was a little dog that no had one bothered to tell was small. Paul picked her up, and daintily sat her to the side, earning himself a squawk of indignation, and I couldn't help it--I laughed. The sound went unheard over their racket and I sat watching the tableau for a couple more minutes before leaving the game. After all, it would have been hours before their yelling ceased and I could always make my excuses to Darla in the morning, if she even remembered I was there.

The cool night air felt good across my face, and once more my master's eyes danced in my vision; half lidded and hazy with pleasure, his perfect lips parted in an 'o' as he moaned. I stopped and shook my head, feeling as if I had given more credence than was necessary to what had happened.

_But admit it, you fancied the feel of him wrapped around you. You love the sounds that dripped from his lips as you plunged into him._

As much as I wanted to call the small voice a liar it was true. I had craved that contact, and I craved it still even though I was doing everything I could to stay away from him. Damn that man to the deepest parts of hell! He has wrought changes in me that I never before had even contemplated. I should have been thinking about the soft curves of Jezebel or Darla, or any number of the maids that run amok in Christopher's home. Yet, all I can think about his him--his hands on me, his lips--branding me in ways that would bring us both hellfire and damnation. Then, as if some strange specter haunted me, he was there.

I took a step back, alarmed, and blinked. I was convinced my eyes had deceived me. No, it was Duke Irvine. He was fiddling with the door to my quarters, and cursing loudly--the words slurred and his cultured, almost prissy, way of speaking had turned into the harsh accent of plain English folk, something that would have undoubtedly made the Duke cringe, if he were to realize. I came upon him, and gently moved his hands from the door.

"Sire, you've came to the wrong door."

He was unsteady on his feet, wobbling, and I didn't like that what with his ankle already injured, and as sauced as he was he probably didn't even feel the pain of it now. If I sent him off across the yard towards the shadow of the great, sleeping, house I feared he wouldn't make it there before collapsing from his drunkeness. I wondered why Adam had not made sure he was inside safely, and it angered me that he had been abandoned in such a state. As if to prove my point, Christopher made some sound that was like both laughing and crying, and yet neither, and pitched forwards.

I caught him under his arms luckily, and decided on simply carrying him towards the house as though he was my bride. He was babbling on about something, but what it was couldn't be made out, other than the phrase 'me cunt of a woif' which he blared out more than once.

I got him to the house, and fought with the door a bit, then got him inside. I carried him to the parlor, and noticed he'd gone quiet. When I laid him on the settee--it was ugly, and if I remembered right, Katherine had chosen it--I found why he'd stopped murmuring. Whatever he had drunk with Layfield and the others had finally claimed him, and he was breathing softly, his eyes closed in a deep sleep. Part of me worried that he'd fall off of the settee, but I knew that I couldn't stay in there with him. It would be a fine sight for the rest of the household to wander in on upon the morn. But the longer I stood there I knew that I wasn't going to be able to walk away.

With a grumbled curse that really wasn't a curse at all, I sat down on the floor and leaned back against the settee, trying to get as comfortable as I could under the circumstances. I was about to drift off to sleep when I felt fingers trailing through my hair and I tilted my head back to see Duke Irvine staring at my hair as if he'd never seen it before in his life. I reached back and took out the leather cord that kept it secured, and let it fall over my shoulders. He just stopped and stared at me, confusion on his face.

"Wots this 'ere?" The words were barely audible due to the drink but I just shook my head and placed his hand back in my hair; hating myself for the way it made me feel. Hesitantly, he started to comb in fingers through it again and I sighed, the feeling relaxing me and making my eyes drift closed.

_Chris_

I woke up slowly, a smile spreading across my face. I felt soft, curly, strands against my skin and pulled my sleepy fingers through them, letting them slip like threads of silk. When I opened my eyes, I saw Matt seated on the floor, leaning against the settee, snoring softly. It was a wonder how he'd been able to sleep like that. When I sat up my back was stiff. But, we had been raised differently, and we lived differently. I was used to feather beds, silk sheets, and finery, and he used to things less comforting. I took pity on him, although he would have most likely been disapproving of it. I stroked his hair again, despite knowing my wife or help could be in at any moment.

Right now, however, I wasn't worried about such things. I felt dreadful, my head pounded from the night before. I remembered the boisterous sounds of men all around, the thick smoke and hearty laughter, and Layfield, Regal, McMahon, shoving pints in front of me all night. I barely remembered any of it, and just hoped I had not done anything too unbecoming. I knew that drunkenness was not so becoming, but I reasoned I was allotted my share of ale and whisky—seeing as I had married a vulture. I reminded myself again that she could be coming downstairs at any moment, and also added to that thought that it would do me well not to sleep on this dratted furniture of hers again.

Matthew did not move as my hand continued to wander over his silken mane, and that gave me a bit of courage. I put aside my thoughts of be caught, and moved so that my legs fell on either side of him, his shoulders between my knees, and I grasped the muscles firmly and kneaded them, knowing that he was going to be in stiff and sore from sleeping sitting like that. He groaned—a sound sleep logged and husky--as my fingers moved and beneath his simple tunic, I could feel the warmth of his flesh, and the twinges of his muscles. Had he been more awake I have no doubt that he would have moved away from me, his brown eyes spitting fire as hateful epitaphs rained down from his lips. Instead, he sighed and rolled his head to the side, revealing the bend at his shoulder and base of his neck.

I moved his hair a little, enjoying the scent of him, mingling delicately with earthy, horsey smells against my nose, and before I could think better of it, I pressed a soft kiss to his neck, where I could feel the sluggish throb of blood beneath. A shiver coursed through him as my lips sensuously met his skin—I could feel it and it excited me--I sighed. My mind was surely still clouded from liquor, because the tip of my tongue flicked out against his skin, tasting as my lips continued to caress slowy up the strong, thick, column of his neck.

A throaty moan vibrated in the back of Matthew's throat. I bit down on his neck just a bit, then laved the mark with my tongue, smirking when Matthew startled and whimpered. He whirled around quickly and stared at me, his mouth open in surprise, his breathes almost panting.

"M'lord!"

He practically yelped as he got to his feet and stared at me, his chocolate eyes burning as they drifted over my face. The pounding in my head intensified and I dropped the gaze, my eyes landing on the visible protrusion in his trousers and my breathing started to quicken. In the back of my mind I knew that nothing could happen here, not when my _darling _wife could happen upon us, or any number of my staff. With great effort I tore my gaze away and brought my eyes back up; unable to stop the lopsided smile the blossomed when Matthew's face colored a lovely shade of red.

Our awkward spot was broken by the sounds of the back door slamming, and familiar voices chatting in the kitchen. I got to my feet and offered Matthew an apology for my actions that both of us knew was a lot less than heartfelt. Darla scurried in to ask a question of me, and lay a kiss to Matthews' cheek, and then she was off to the kitchen again.

"Matthew, thank you for--" I began, wishing sincerely to thank him for sitting with me, but another harsher slam of a door upstairs made us both cringe, and my words forgot themselves.

I knew that slamming door as I sort of alarm, akin to the crow of a rooster in the early morning but far more dreadful. It meant Katie had awoken, and so she was. She swooped down the stairs, her face already set in a cold expression, and I wondered if her face always stayed that way, even when she slept. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she put on a pleasant, even warm, smile which I knew as a sham.

"My dear husband." She said, her voice laced sickishly sweet. "And Matthew."

She was not even discrete in letting her eyes roam over Matthew, and he was clearly annoyed with her blatant appraisal, as was I. A flame of jealousy rose in my chest, and I shifted from foot to foot, wishing I could do more, such as slap that ridiculous lustful leer from her face. Her Uncle had surely forgotten to raise her a lady, for she was not one. Her gaze came to rest hotly at one point on Matthews body, and Matthew clasped his hands in front of him to shield what was stretching the front of his breeches. He glared at her.

"Katherine." I snipped at her, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, before speaking again.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear Christopher. It's just that I've never seen such sights before." She glanced down below my waist, and snorted.

I opened my mouth to say something else, I felt a fool that she would dare say such a thing to me, and being in front of Matthew, made if even worse to my mind. But before I could retort to her, she pushed past both I and Matthew, and disappeared into the kitchen where she would most likely find something wrong with the breakfast being made. I turned towards Matthew, as I ground my teeth, thoroughly despising that woman. The audacity of that woman! To insult me in front of my help--in front of the one that I find myself actually caring about his opinions?

Matthew began to speak, but I pulled him close and ravished his mouth, thrusting my tongue deep into the moist cavern and swirling about as if it were my own. My lungs were begging for air when I broke the kiss, panting and pushing some of my sleep tousled hair from my face; my body burning and suffering from the same predicament that Matthew's body was still experiencing in the nether regions.

The sound of heels against the marble flooring prompted me to turn from Matthew, and face the window; dismissing him coldly to save him from having to go through anything more. I heard Matthew mumble something in parting then the back door closed softly.

"Is there something I can help you with my dear?" I asked without turning from the window.

"I want that common house fly of a cook gone! T'is the fourth morn that she's not been at her post at the appointed time." Katie Lea huffed with a stamp of her foot.

"Well my dear, I'm sorry but it seems as if my cook has come down with some sort of bug and has been given the entire week off in order to right her senses. We've already spoke of these things yesterday, love." I finally turned around, my eyes blazing as I stared down my wife. "And I will not have you molesting her while she's recuperating, nor am I going to release her from her position."

The words were heavy handed and growled and I was shivering on the inside as I continued to stare Katie Lea down while I waited for her retort. Instead of a retort, she came closer to me.

"Why didn't you come to bed last night?" She hissed, capturing my eyes with her dark ones. Despite my efforts, I think she could still see the wavering in my eyes. "Or were you in someone elses?" Her words were quick and sharp, like fisted jabs. "You do seem rather willing to defend that--that--alley cat Jezebel at every turn! If you were a proper master, you would not be such a woman when it comes to disciplining your help! But I suppose it's only your nature." She laughed. "And don't dare try and be snappy with me. You may think you can frighten me, but I can see past your sad little defense. You have no real spine, and the spine you do posses..." She flicked her eyes once again, below my waist. "Like other parts of you, is made up of quivering jelly."

My rage flared at her comments. They struck deep, and painfully. I was ready to show her who was a woman, and who needed disciplined, and I was neither. I cocked my hand back, palm open, ready to lay it flat and sharp across her face, and she laughed, and grabbed my wrist, her nails biting, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Go ahead, and hit me love." She smiled sweetly. "I'll just show Uncle the bruise you leave against my cheek." She pouted. "Oh, but he wouldn't like that very well. Neither would my big, surly brother." Her eyes glittered, knowing she had me in a place where I could do nothing. Her smile widened to a wicked grin. "And Christopher..."

The snap of her hand against my face rang through the room, the force of it snapped my head to the side, my eyes wide in shock that she had actually struck me.

"Wipe that shitty little pathetic scowl from your face." She snorted. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it would stick that way?"

She let go of my wrist, and laughed as though the whole interaction had been highly amusing. Her heels clicked as she left the room, and the print of her hand burned shamefully against my cheek. Perhaps she was right, and her fiery palm had branded me; woman.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all for reading and reviewing! :D That is all! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 11**

Chris

Another night and I found myself drinking again. I was beginning to find my own home unbearable, between my wifes squawking barbs and biting claws, and then Matthew and all the things that clouded my mind and judgment concerning him. Tonight, it wasn't even the gentlemen's club with Layfield, or McMahon, or Regal where I had ran off to. I had needed something else upon this night, and so I'd left my fine clothes in my wardrobe. My silk and beautiful things which branded me apart from other, lower, cockroaches, were not upon my back this night. I opted only for a white linen tunic and tan breeches, something inconspicuous. I would have looked odd and out of place brandishing fine French tailored clothing in a common, dingy, pub where men with holes for teeth and dirty, over-worked faces sat spilling ale into their beards.

At least here I wouldn't be subjected to Lord Regal asking me again and again about when there were going to be children. There was no Layfield bellowing laughter, nudging my arm, asking how the little woman was, and me being sure there was some joke in his voice, as I thought of Katie's various accusations of who was and wasn't the man of our home.

Here, I could do as I wished. I could just sit at a lonely table in the dark corner, having my mug refilled with ale as a buxom bar-made passed and winked at me, and maybe if I was sauced enough I'd wink back just to pretend she interested me in the least. I wish I could say different—that she really did draw my attention--how many times I have wished for such a simple feeling, but my desires are none that she could sate.

When she came around once more, I gave her a small smile. She spoke to me a bit, and her accent was so rough edged I could only make out a few words--or maybe it was just the ale. I think she questioned me about why I seemed so sad, but I of course did not give her an answer. I only watched as she trotted back to the bar, and I put my eyes on her round behind as it swayed, almost laughing bitterly that I couldn't have found it any less attractive.

She spoke to a couple of younger girls hovering round the bar. They both sent me devious looking smirks, one with ginger hair in tendrils around her face, the other a dark blond. I ducked my head down in hopes that they would pass me by, but nay. The two stopped at my table, the red-head piled into my lap and the blond began to kneed my shoulders, as she bent close to my ear and whispered of the things the three of us could do, if I was lonely and needed company--to say the least I was flustered and embarrassed at their advances. When I stuttered and tried to decline, the red-head pulled at a ribbon on her dress which was-barely-keeping her chest from assaulting my face.

"No, no please--e-excuse me!"

I babbled as I rose from my seat too quickly, sending the red-head to the floor with a squeak. My knee hit the table, spilling the rest of my ale over my breeches. I started to make my apologies and held my hand out to help her up; but she was smarter than I have ever given credence to their ilk. With a speed that even had I been sober would have doubted, she pulled me down, arching as I landed in that most sacred of places that I have no doubt many men before had been, and more willingly than I. My face colored and I scrambled to my feet, not even bothering to leave any payment on the table for my drinks as my legs carried me as far from the pub as they could in my inebriated state.

Thankfully the small dingy watering hole of the common man wasn't far from my home and I soon wobbled through the ruts that my own wagon and carriage had carved through the years. The cool night air had me tilting my face upwards and I stopped for a moment, savoring the beauty of the inky darkness with its stars winking like thousands of sparkling jewels.

Sadness overwhelmed me and as my feet grew suddenly leaden of their weary trek back towards the manor. I started thinking over the complete misery that my once privileged life had become. A loveless marriage I could deal with, after all my mother didn't hold any affection for my own father; but the contempt and blatant disregard in which I was treated was beyond the scope of my reasoning--ale addled or not. The fact of the matter was that the dear _Lady _Katherine should be on her knees thanking me for doing her a great service my taking her spiteful hand in marriage. Had she actually been a debutante I have no doubt that she'd not have found a suitor neither this year, nor the year after or even the year after. She simply oozed a contempt for mankind that had it not been turned on me every minute of every day, I think I would have envied her for.

Then of course, the thought of her on her knees at all made me grimace and I shook my head like a horse with flies buzzing around its velvety ears. That thought, mingled with the sudden scent of the stables that had come out of seemingly nowhere, sent my thoughts in another direction--to another dark haired distraction. However, this one was much more welcomed, even if he hated me. Thinking of his dark eyes, I looked back up to the raven sky. Once more the beauty of it ensnared me and I couldn't explain the sudden desire to have Matthew at my side as we watched the sky. The thought of him sitting next to me, whether he talked or not, made me hasten my footsteps and before long the manor loomed in my vision.

Like a thief in the night I skirted the large house; noting that a light burned in my study. _That harpy has probably completely wrecked and 'redone' it._ Even that dismal thought couldn't dislodge the droll little grin that had worked its way onto my face as I drew closer to the stable. The sound of voices, however, stopped me and I moved back into the shadows; not wanting anyone to see me--although if they did I had doubts they would recognize me.

After listening, I noticed that the voices belonged to Darla and Adam. They were bickering playfully as they walked; Adam obviously trying to charm my winsome cook into a roll in the hay. Once they were gone from my sight and I could no longer hear them I started my path again, hurrying towards the servant quarters and shifting from foot to foot as I stared at Matt's door. What if he was not there? Worse yet, what if he was in, but had company? That thought unleashed something that had me growling—jealously in its most basic form--and I pounded heavily on his door, my face set in a hard scowl as I waited for him to open it.

Just as I had thought of leaving, that he was surely out or in a dead sleep, he opened the door. I was thankful because the thought of wandering my grounds alone in the darkness did not really set well, although a wolf on the prowl in the misty moors would have likely been more welcome than the beast prowling inside the walls of my home. The look of his face as he opened the door brought a soft smile to my lips. His dark curls were down over his shoulders, some stuck to the side of his face, and before thinking I brushed them away with my fingers. He flinched back and blinked at me from eyes crusted and heavy with sleep. I felt a bit sorry for waking him at such an hour, but I dearly wanted his company, and in that I was perhaps selfish. But after all, he was in my employ, and so I was entitled to call upon him whenever he was needed, should he be asleep or not. Still, I thought about apologizing, and leaving him to fall back to his dreams. He furrowed his brow; his eyes squinted as he coughed to clear his throat.

"M'lord?" The word was growled, yet it the growl of a voice that had long since gave up its use while its owner found peace in slumber. "Be there something wrong sire?" He prodded when I didn't say anything. I collected myself and shook my head, opening my mouth and send him back to his bed, but my tongue had other ideas.

"Nay, nothing be wrong, I merely wanted some company this eve as I wander the grounds."

My voice brooked no argument even though my words had made the sentence sound like a request rather than the order it was. Matthew's eyes widened and he shook his head; his mass of dark curls flying wantonly around his face.

"Sire, if I'm not mistaken wouldn't this be better put off until the dawns light touches the grounds so that we may see where we're going?"

"The moonlight is enough." I said quietly.

I disliked the wobble of the alcohol, and perhaps my emotions in my voice as I extended my hand to him, afraid that he would not take it. After a moment of hesitation, he placed his hand in mine, warm and work-worn. I curled my fingers through his, and led him across the soft grass. As I suspected he would be, he was silent as we walked slowly. My steps as I led him towards our destination seemed at times unsure, and I knew it was from drinking too much, but did not really care. A couple times I felt his hand, discretely at my back, when I stumbled over my feet. He spoke once again, voicing that perhaps our trek was not such a good idea, but that did not stop me from making it.

At last, we reached the edge of the pond that I enjoyed in the summer, sometimes to read by, other times to just watch the silvery water shimmer, and the geese honk about with their line of young behind them. Right now the only sound was a lone frog croaking now and again. It was serene, and peaceful. I untwined my fingers from Matthews and sat down in the grass, just watching the moonlight wink from the placid surface. After a few moments, I traded that for a different view, stretching out on my back and staring up at the velvety sky.

"Matthew..."

I squinted my eyes at the stars as they shimmered, beginning to blur as my eyes teared up, and I was angry for those tears. I was not some meek, emotional woman that I should cry over such things as the sky at night. Yet still, looking at it, just made me feel impossibly small and lonely, even with Matthew there, because I knew he was not with me because he desired it.

"Why would the Almighty waste His time creating such a weak and disgusting creature as mankind, when He can create something as simply dazzling as the stars in the sky? What meaning is there in our creation and existence? Have we been placed here only to suffer under His eye at the hands of our own weaknesses...or is it only I?"

Silence enveloped us, but for that loan frog croaking softly. I wished he would have said something, but he was still and quiet. I felt a fool for dragging him from sleep, to be here with me, when he seemed as though he woudl rather be anywhere else at this moment. At last, I could only sigh. My loneliness was bearing down upon my heart, and I was ashamed at the wet tears streaking my face in the darkness. I had cried in front of him once before and perhaps he thought the same of me as my wife did for doing so. I hoped when I spoke, my voice sounded firm and steady.

"You're dismissed Matthew." I said to the darkness, waving my hand, though I doubt he could see it in the shadows.

"I do not believe that you are the only one that suffers a fate that isn't one you'd pick for yourself."

I was startled that he finally spoke, his voice still raspy. I rolled over to my side and watched as he pulled his long legs up and wrapped his arms about them as if embracing a lost lover; his chin resting on the top as he looked out over the mirror like surface of the pond.

"There are many who would choose to be in a place far different than that in which they are in, yet they do what they can to make the best of it."

I felt my chest tightening; surely Matthew was speaking of himself, wishing to be away from my home—far, far away. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he continued on.

"Yet there are those who wouldn't want to be anywhere, or anything other than what they are as of this moment. But such things are not for us to judge, after all in the good book it says that for our troubles and tribulations we will be rewarded a spot among the angels."

His voice died away and I furrowed my brow, it had to be the drink in my mind that seemed to give Matthew a regal sound this night. I couldn't for the life of me remember a time when he'd said so much and in such a way that if he were but dressed better could have passed for one of my peers.

"A place among the angels? Not for men like me." I said quietly, wiping at my eyes. I sat up, and crawled over closer to where he sat, hoping he wouldn't move away from me.

"Nor for me, yet it sounds comforting. I know my brother has a place among them." His voice wobbled and he turned his head to look at me, his hair blowing around his face on the soft breeze that had just kicked up. "I fear that I shall dance amongst the devils for all the trouble I have gotten myself into," His voice was steadier, but the moon light caught the track of a tear that had slipped from his eyes. "Of course the devil himself may not want me either. I might be doomed to an eternity to walk this earth, alone."

His voice was still sad but it was obvious that he was trying to joke himself out of the black mood that had enveloped him. I found my eyes trained to his, as they filled with a shean of tears, and I thought that if The Father damned the soul of this beautiful, perfect creature, to walk an eternity of unrest on the earth—well then, at least he would not be alone. I would be sure The Almighty matched my sentence to his.

"Matthew..." My voice had almost escaped me, with emotion welling in my throat. "Matthew I'm sorry. I have only increased the burdens of your heart by my selfish actions." I found his hand in the darkness, and touched it for a moment, squeezing gently. "It was not, nor is it my intention to encumber you with such pains."

"Some things are meant to happen." His voice was still soft, but the sad edge had all but disappeared and the grinned in spite of myself when he squeezed back before disentangling our fingers. "Had it not been you that day, who paid my price, there is no telling where I might have ended up." He fell quiet again, "Besides, your burdens are much heavier than mine."

Long moments seemed to have past when both of us were so silent. The alcohol was weighing heavier and heavier, the feel and taste of it cottony and numb in my mouth. My eyes were starting to droop, the white glittering dots in the sky began to blur.

"Matthew, Dearest love, won't you he-'elp me up to the 'ouse?"

My sentence ended with a hiccup, and a burning sensation twisting its way up and then back down my throat. I could have gotten to my feet on my own, but I so wanted to feel his strong arms curl around me, and envelope me in their warmth. He did as I asked, and stood me up. His arm stayed at my back, holding me close to his side as the pair of us made our way over the soft ground back towards my home. A smile was stretched broadly across my face, and I was a bit glad it was hidden in the dark for surely I looked as silly as a smitten girl.

When we reached the house, I did not want him to leave. My fingers found the strings hanging from the open neck of his shirt and the cottony tendrils curled around my fingers. I wanted to press my lips to his, or even better, for him to duck his head to capture mine. But in the shadows, his handsome, dark eyes glittered with a hard resolve, and so I only stroked his cheek.

"Thank you Matthew, you are too kind. Good night."

Katie Lea

I could not believe that he was out again! Was it not bad enough the way he behaved most of the time, that he also had to go off, while I was stuck here in the drab, bore of a home with absolutely nothing at all to do? Of course, I'd tried again for that beautiful, dark haired stallion in my _dear_ husbands keeping but the brute would not have me. He obviously does not know a fine woman when she's presented.

I pulled the brush through my hair again, letting the dark locks fall over my shoulders. I paced the room, waiting for a slam of the door or a creak of the stair which would alert me to that rat of a man sneaking and stumbling back in. He does not know his place, that is all too apparent. His mother has surely failed him in bringing him up as a gentleman or a man at all. Were that lovely woman with us still, I would have certainly had words with her—and not soft ones. Perhaps I could make a man of him yet, though with each passing day my doubts grew stronger.

Once more my mind wandered back to the stallion in my husband's stable; his curly ebony mane wild about his shoulders as he pitched the hay, his rumbling voice as he called out orders to those under him. Of course there was but one problem with my yearning; if I should quicken with his child there wouldn't nary a way to pass it off as my _husbands_. Yes, I had dark hair, yet my eyes were blue so if the child were to come with Matthews coloring t'would bring shame upon the house. While I could care less about the Duke's good name, I would never drag my family's name through the muck.

I sat the brush back down and pursed my lips, my index finger tapping lightly as I thought. It was so simple, the answer had been staring me right in the face! Christian. Yes, my husband's valet. He bore enough resemblance to my husband that I could pass of a child of his as one from my husband; and then there was the foot man, Copeland. He too had the blond locks and light eyes that my husband possessed. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in my throat. No one would be the wiser to my dabbling, except for he and I should a child result--but with his water-like spine he would never have the gall to air my infidelity in the open. T'would be the ultimate sword in his side, to have to watch as some other mans--some servants--son took control of what his family had worked so hard to build.

With that in mind, and my husband nowhere to be found, I slipped out of the room and padded down the grand staircase, mind set on finding one of those handsome blonds in my arms tonight. My trek was cut short, when I entered the kitchen and saw my husband slumped in one of the chairs, draped over the table and snoring like an idiot. I slapped him in the back of the head, fool, and he barely twitched. Well, he'd obviously worn himself out doing something or someone and why it was not me I wouldn't know. But no matter, I'd rather have a real man bucking against me, not one in training. I left him slouched over the table and noted that I'd have to scold him over it in the morning. Oh, I would be sure to really make his head ache.

I left the house and moved quickly through the night towards the servants' quarters. I could not quite remember where each man or woman slept, and only hoped the door I was knocking at belonged to one of the gorgeous blonds and not that big bald oaf Christopher keeps around. I waited for someone to come to the door, and pulled a couple of pins from my hair. The dark curls fell free around my face, and I shook them a little, and put on my best alluring smirk.

The minutes seemed to trudge by and I could not help the agitation that caused me to knock again; harder and faster this time. From the inside I heard the sound of voices and I furrowed my brow, it was surely past the middle of the night, no one should be out of their beds this hour. Well with the exception of myself; but I had urgent business to attend too. The light sounds of scuffling feet floated through the door and soon it was cracked open. The long blonde locks framed the green eyes of my husband's carriage driver, who stood staring at me in confusion.

"M'lady be there something wrong?" He asked, his voice pitching in sound.

"Nay Copeland, there is nothing wrong this eve." I dropped my voice down until it was sultry purr. "Oh, there is something, but I believe you can help me remedy it." I dropped my eyes to the hay covered floor, biting my lip and managing to blush slightly.

"Whatever it is wrong Mistress, you can be assured that I'm at your disposable." He made this too easy for me. I flicked my tongue against my lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

He looked a bit surprised. His emerald eyes widened at first, but then they creased to merry little slits and his lips took up a cocky smirk, as he bobbled his head and leaned in the doorway.

"I'm sure you were hoping I would do more than say, m'lady."

His strong, warm hands wrapped around my waist and moved me into his small living quarters. He shut the door and turned to me with a wolfish expression that set my blood to fire. He growled as he made his way to me, obviously unconcerned that I was the wife of his master. I never knew he was so daring, but the sure confidence of his movements excited me. He was so more a man than my gelatinous husband could be.

His lips captured mine roughly, and I sought his desperately, purring into his open mouth as our tongues dueled like skilled fencers. His hands were all over me, under my dressing gown, groping and probing. It was simply magnificent, and animalistic as our teeth bit and clashed. Soon we were both rid of our clothing and his hot, hard, arousal was pressed against my belly. He backed me to the bed, and we both crashed down, panting and moving against each other in complete passion. Very soon, it was over. The adulterous adventure was finished and I lay sticky and nude against his muscled arms, just stroking them. If he was now regretting what he'd done, he didn't say it. When I looked up at him he was only still wearing that cocky smirk, and I kissed it.

"Shall we dance again another night?" I purred against his ear.

"Mistress, that is entirely up to you, but I assure you that my dance steps will always be ready for you, should you wish to waltz."

He pushed the hair away from my face and captured my lips again; gently this time, his tongue twinning slowly with my mine. With a satisfied sigh I melted into his embrace. I did not want this to be over, but I knew that the dawn was on its way to chase the night back to its resting place.

He laughed and moved from the bed first, grabbing my gown and holding it for me, a gentlemanly smile on his face even though we both know that he is far from that. Dressing was unhurried, kisses being stolen as hands wandered and teased. Soon I was heading across the yard, the pale sunlight chasing my heels as I rushed. Gasping slightly for breath I quietly made my way past my still slumbering husband and almost tripped as I practically flew up the stairs. I barely made it to my room and back into my bed before my maid entered; whistling cheerily as she threw open the drapes.

"Good morning mistress. I pray the night found you well?"

"The night has found me well." I answered, as I rose from bed and feigned a yawn. I turned my back to her, and my lips twitched into a grin. "Very well, indeed."


	12. Chapter 12

_Katie Lea_

That first midnight tryst with the family footman turned out to be only the first of many. Often nights when my husband was laid in his own quarters, apart from his wife and his duties, or when he was flouncing about town with his asinine colleagues, I would go to Adam.

I spent many nights in his arms, full of passion as I had never before experienced, all my deepest needs and desires sated again and again by his consuming fire. I have never felt such pleasure, and I had never felt such kisses as his lips melding to mine, the touches seeming to contain the lightening of a summer storm. The only time I had ever touched Christopher in such a way, I had felt nothing but cold, clumsy, slow-witted lips. It was as though my husband knew not what to do with them, but now it did not matter.

Christopher had come to mean nothing more to me than a cumbersome annoyance. I have his name, his wealth, everything he owns is also mine and I can do with it as I wish because my hand is stronger than his. Few times he has tried to speak against me, but his impressive vocabulary is knocked from his lips with one snap of my hand. He is tamed, really--not that there was much left untamed to begin with. He is simply as soft as the jam I spread over my roll, and I am the knife that scrapes him over the burnt pieces when he needs to be. Only yesterday I had to put him in his place, and he's only been lurking about with extra powder on his pretty face, and his hair around it, in attempts to cover the nasty bruise I dealt him. He deserved it. Ah, but right now I need not think of such things. My mind best be occupied with other sordid thoughts. I smiled over the yard as this day's sun crept high in the sky, ushering in the shadows of evening. Soon, I would be in the arms of my lover again.

It seemed as if the night would never truly fall, the pinks and oranges of the dying sun held onto the precious sky like a miser would his last shilling. I stomped through my home, watching with a keen eye as the servants finished their last chores of the day and bid each other farewell with smiles plastered on their equally simple faces. Then, there came a noise in the kitchen and I moved into the room, watching as that alley cat Jezebel and her cohort Darla finished putting away the silver--I'm going to have to check later to make sure that it's all still there--and chatting amiably. The red head trollop's ill-bred voice twittered asininely as she giggled about going over to the mortician's abode and spending the eve with one of their help.

With a roll of my eyes I left them to their idiocy, far be it from me to care what they do on their free time; besides it was all over the local gentry that the younger brother of the mortician--a more ghastly man I have never seen--was the one taking the little harlot to his bed every darkening night and not releasing her until the faint rays of morning stretched their weak fingers upon the ground.

Those two were soon dismissed from my mind when I spied the object of my affection leaning against one of the entry way arches. His livery finery looked splendid on him; the taut fabric hugged his body and showed off his wealth of muscles. I stopped and took a couple of deep breaths; my eyes smoldering as his flicked from my well coifed hair to my kid slippered feet. There were naught but illicit intentions in the fiery green depths of his eyes, and just the mere thought turned my knees to jelly.

With a roll of my eyes I left them to their idiocy, far be it from me to care what they do on their free time; besides it was all over the local gentry that the younger brother of the mortician--a more ghastly man I have never seen--was the one taking the little harlot to his bed every darkening night and not releasing her until the faint rays of morning stretched their weak fingers upon the ground.

Those two were soon dismissed from my mind when I spied the object of my affection leaning against one of the entry way arches. His livery finery looked splendid on him; the taut fabric hugged his body and showed off his wealth of muscles. I stopped and took a couple of deep breaths; my eyes smoldering as his flicked from my well coifed hair to my kid slippered feet. There were naught but illicit intentions in the fiery green depths of his eyes, and just the mere thought turned my knees to jelly.

I wrapped myself around him, hotly pressing my lips to him, and melting into that familiar embrace. For moment our lips dueled, words falling between them. At last, he forced them apart, as I whined at the loss of them.

"M'Lady, we must take our dalliances elsewhere, less…public." He said, darting his eyes around the empty kitchen. Although my husband was out, there was a chance that we could be discovered by someone wandering back in. I pressed myself too him, eagerly feeling the hard excitement splendidly erect between us. His eyes dazzled me, and his mischievous smirk was so daring and bold.

"I have the perfect nest for us." I laughed, and pulled him after me, as we seemed to dance and flit towards the stairs rather than simply walk.

I led him through my husband's solar and towards my own, and giggled as he leaned down to nip at my neck, and his fingers grabbed and tickled at my waist. I pressed my hand to the door of my solar, ready to tumble over my bed, when he pressed his hand over mind.

"Wait." He said simply, his voice breathy and hot against my ear. I shivered, the marvelous tingles spreading throughout my heated body. I looked up at him, to see why it was he had stopped. He was looking towards a specific place, a wolfish grin on his face, that I soon mimicked as I realized the brilliance and defiant fun of what he was thinking.

"Oh, oh yes!" I slapped my knees, cackling with laughter. He swept me into his arms as I giggled still, and laid me out on my husbands bed. "Yes, Adam…take me where our _Master_ sleeps." I growled, as he leaned over me, his fingers trailing under my gown.

I gripped the headboard and arched into him, obscenely rubbing and moving against him. He grinned, and moved down my body, hoisting my legs up on his strong shoulders. He ducked his head under my gown to use his mouth in that way that no gentleman would do—it was improper and beastly, and it set me to burning like nothing else. Our night was fire on fire, our flames melding together in one delicious, raging, heat—embers popping and crackling, smoke rising from the ashes.

He laid next to me, in my husbands place. I pressed my lips once more gently to his, and smoothed away a few strands of his sweaty hair, the blonde made darker and dirty. I just wrapped myself around him and we stayed quiet, sharing the still content that ebbs and flows lazily after our love making. I daren't fall asleep, for these moments we had together were stolen, and precious to me. At last, his fingers tipped my chin up from my chest, and my sleepy eyes looked blearily upon his handsome face. The pale moonlight crept grayly in through the pulled curtains, seeming to give my lover a halo, though we both knew he was no angel.

"I must go, Lady Katherine. The day comes soon, and Master Irvine may be home at any moment."

He was right, I knew it as well. I leaned back on the pillows as I watched him dress, my lips curling into a smirk as I teased him by fondling my breasts. He laughed, and held his hand out for mine.

"Come, see me to the door."

I followed him through the house, not bothering to dress myself. I simply love to be the tease, and Adam did not mind the way my naked bosom bounced as I followed him down the grand staircase. At last, we were at his exit. He slid his fingers from mine, and stepped outside.

"Wait, Adam!" I hurried after him, and pulled him to me for one last, passionate kiss. He broke away, leering, and his hand caught the cheek of my ass, making me yelp. What nerve he has to be so bold as to strike me—and it has me aroused all over again.

"Get inside with you, you shall take ill from frolicking about without a stitch to cover you."

I stepped back into the kitchen, watching him as he disappeared into the shadows that spilled over the yard. A shiver coursed through me, as I felt the eerie sensation of eyes upon me. Surely, t'was nothing. Who would be awake at this hour? Verily, it was only my mind playing tricks, as I had yet to lay down that night and give it proper rest. I might stay in bed this day, and feign some illness so I may be left unbothered by that feeble husband of mine—who I now heard making a noise as he entered through the front way. I hid myself in shadows, and watched as he stumbled and tumbled his way around things, threatening to break my most treasured vase as he careened into the table that held it. I growled lowly, wanting to throttle him for his stupidity. At last, he was out of my sight, disappeared upstairs.

After a few moments, I came out of the shadows and wandered slowly through the downstairs, my hands touching on all the changes I had wrought, righting the vase he had knocked from its place. I couldn't be fully enraged at him, for the bliss of my tryst still made me smile as I ascended the stairs at a leisurely pace. I peeked into my husbands solar when I reached it. No doubt he hadn't even noticed the messy bed in his sloshed state. In fact, he had fallen from the bed, partly wrapped in one of the sheets, and was snoring loudly; his face mashed against the hideously bright rug that he insisted stay.

I choked back the sneering denunciation and moved through the 'Masters' solar, plucking up my clothes from the floor as I went. I ducked into my own chamber, shutting the door, and pulling on a thin nightgown. The sudden sound of movement through the door caught my attention and I hurried tossed my rumpled dress and under skirting into the corner of the room and sat down at the vanity; yawning widely when I heard the door click and swing open. With a steely-eyed glare I turned and watched as my soused fool of a husband blinked dumbly at me. He opened his mouth to say something but have thought better of it and turned around, leaving me snorting at his mindless antics.

_Chris_

I was awoken from my deep sleep, somehow the vibrations of footfalls against the flooring came through to me even in the state I was in. I thought perhaps it was my wife moving around in early morning, but when I ducked in to check on her, my blurry eyes saw her sat at the vanity. I knew not why I bothered, as if I should care what she was doing or why. I suppose there is only still some small part of me that remembers my upbringing, and urges me to stay true to it, such as the way it is taught for a man to treat a woman. Yet even so, I had also come to the conclusion that I had not married myself to a woman, but to a devil.

My feet were heavy from another night of trying to drown myself, as I dragged them back to my bed and sat, my head aching in my hands. As I ran one of my palms over the bed linens I could only note how cold they felt, mirroring the emptiness I often felt in my own home, and the loneliness my confused soul brought upon me for not being able to take up properly with my wife.

I closed my eyes against the slow coming dawn, and dizzy visions of that one bright star in my life did make me smile. I longed to be in a dirty barn, rather than the fineness of my own home, as long as he was there as well. I must be a fool, or perhaps I am in love--or it may just be one in the same. While thinking these things, I hardly realized that my feet were moving me again, and I nearly took a nasty tumble down the staircase. No doubt my darling wife would have stood at the top looking down, laughing. That is her usual stance on things.

I did not stop my wobbling legs from taking the steps down, or leading me out of my home, towards a place I knew I shouldn't be at a time when all of those in my service would be rising and beginning their daily routines. But there was still too much drink in me, and I only wanted his touch to remind me that I was cared for--I had no delusions of his love that was certain--but at least even he cared for me more than my own wife and her cruel words, and striking hands.

As I drew near I could hear the horses moving about in their stalls; their hoofs pounding against the hay and making the dull pounding in my head become a more than a roar. I had to stop and press the palm of my hand into my dry and gritty eyes; willing the pain away so that I might be able to see only one copy of the dark haired treasure that for the time being was the only incentive driving me from my bed any more.

The creak of a door sounded loudly; making me groan before taking my hands away and seeing what caused the ruckus. Of course once my double vision cleared somewhat, I smiled. Matthew was standing in the doorway, his rough linen trousers clinging to his waist just low enough that I could see the indents of his hips and his chest bare as soft sun light filtered through the cracks in the barn ceiling and dappled the tan skin. He was staring at me with some sort of confusion on his pretty face; his plump lips pulled up into an expression that was caught somewhere between a wary smile and concern.

I opened my mouth to ask what had vexed him, but instead the spinning in my head increased tenfold, and I had to shove my hand to my mouth to save him from being covered in the return of my ale. I grabbed blindly for something to hold onto and felt my fingers trail against the rough wood and prick splinters as I sank hard to my knees and coughed everything onto the barn floor. Now I had not only made a mess of myself but also a fool--although I could barely bring myself to care about either of those over the pounding in my head, akin to the shrill, steady, crashes of the blacksmiths hammer against his anvil. Shakily, I wiped my mouth and nose against my sleeve, grimacing at the sour taste against my tongue. I felt hands on my shoulders; their rough calluses seemingly resting against my skin rather than the fine silk shirt I wore.

"Wa-water, please." I croaked, the taste in my mouth so horrible that it was threatening my stomach to put on an encore performance.

Moments later a glass was pushed into my hand and fingers other than my own curled around the cool offering. He helped guide it to my lips and steadied it as I drank down the clear water greedily; the icy bite washing away the foul curdled ale. Some leaked from the corner of my lips and when he pulled the glass away I flicked my tongue out to catch them before they splashed onto the hay covered floor and were lost.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I was far from the picture of nobility that was associated with my family's name but right at that moment I cared not. Matthew's warm hands went back to my shoulders, this time helping me up and turning me so that I was leaning against one of the rough hewed plank walls. His silence startled me, Matthew never held his tongue. After making sure that I would not be covering his bare feet with the remnants of my twilight follies, and the water that now sat upon it, I raised my head and looked at him.

"D-dearest Matthew," I winced at the term of endearment but barreled on; wanting to know what had his smooth brow drawn up in worried lines. "What causes you to be distraught at this hour? Surely the night didn't pass so horribly that you must burden the new day with it."

He worried his lip for a moment, and I watched it intently, remembering fondly the softness of its kiss.

"There is nothing so troubling that you must keep it from me, Matthew. Now come, pray tell."

His fingers brushed against my cheek, batting a piece of my sweaty hair. He was about to speak, but he snapped his mouth shut and his scowl deepened. His thumb rubbed at the ticklish skin of my cheek and I nuzzled against the tender touch, cherishing it deeply.

"What's this?" He tipped my chin up. "Did someone strike you at the club, or the pub?"

It took me a moment to understand what he spoke of. He had found the violet smear that my wife had left there, and not for the first time. I dropped my eyes from him, not wanting to lie, yet confessing to another man that a woman had struck me would make me feel so much smaller than I already did, if that was even possible. I searched for something to stay, stuck between the truth and the lie, neither of which I wanted. After a moment of nothing but my silence and shameful, downcast gaze, he gently touched that mark of dishonor again.

"Never mind, you must have only fallen against something whilst the ale worked too hard last night." By the tension in his words, I knew that he had figured the truth without me needing to speak it, and I was grateful for his attempt to lessen my humiliation. I nodded weakly, agreeing with his farce.

"Yes, must have." I echoed. "But still, you have not told me what had upset you when you stood at the door."

Those soulful eyes that I had come to rely on to get me through the torturous days darted everywhere, avoiding my face until I shakily raised my hands and placed them on his cheeks, tilting his head down until he had no choice but to look at me.

"Matthew, there is nothing you need to fear, no repercussions. Now please indulge me as to what has you vexed this early in the day." He sighed, his breath fanning my face and fluttering the flyaway pieces of hair about my face.

"Sire, I know not how to speak of this..." He pressed his full lips into a tight line and his confused orbs stared into mine; holding me captive with their beauty. "But upon the predawn's light I seen, or rather I thought I seen the Lady Katherine out on the stoop…with…uh…"

The ale still sloshing around my brain had me shaking my head and looking at Matthew as if I had never seen him before. He couldn't have seen Katherine here this morn, she was in her solar when I checked on her, just having risen from a nights sleep.

"Pray tell Matthew, what gave you reason to believe that you had seen the Lady? Perhaps I was not the only one partaking in copious cups of ale last evening tide." His eyes which had glittered with concern only mere moments before were now as cold and hard as the ground in the winter.

"She...Christopher..." He was battling his words again. Just as Matthew had been able to decipher my truths without me speaking them, so I could sense what his meaning was now. In my minds eye, I could easily imagine her standing under the starlight, wrapped around another. It would have been foolish for me to not consider it, as I knew that I could not provide her that which every woman needs from a man. A real man. My lips pulled up into a saddened half-smile, and I pulled him close into warm embrace, leaning my chin against his shoulder.

"Matthew, t'would not shock me to discover my wife stepping out. Just as there are desires in me that she cannot fulfill, so there are fires in her that I cannot begin to quench. It is of no concern to me if she finds a better lover elsewhere."

Matthew stood slack in my embrace, neither welcoming nor denying me the small warmth that it provided. Gently I felt his arms circle my waist; loosely holding me and a molten tear escaped from my eyes; sliding down my cheek and gliding between Matthew and I's skin, bonding it together for a small moment in time. I cleared my throat and pulled away, the pounding in my head starting to thunder back to life as the light crept into the dark area we had been hide in and assaulted my eyes.

"M'lord perhaps you should return to the manor and get back abed." Matthew suggested softly; his fingers once more moving my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. _Only if I can get you to join me, just to be near._ The thought took up residence and I had to fight hard to keep my liquored tongue from spilling the indecent proposal, not that it would ever amount to anything.

"I do believe you are right Matthew." My lips quirked up at the corner and before I could stop myself I leaned in and briefly touched them to his, the fleeting caress of their softness making me blush when I pulled away and turned my back to him. "Get thee to thine work Matthew erfore you find yourself residing in my lady wife's ire as well."

_Matt_

I watched Duke Irvine moving wobbly across the lawn and fought hard to tamp down on the impulse to go and help him. It wasn't the first time he had stumbled thus, and I was certain that it wouldn't be the last. Still, the way the weak sun made his hair shine was enthralling and I couldn't help but wonder why I cared whether or not he fell or twisted his ankle again.

_You care because no one has ever been as gentle with you as he has. _

The seductive voice brought up images of their encounters and I felt like phantom hands were crawling over my skin; dipping into my trousers and teasing my rapidly hardening flesh. With a growl I shook my head and turned to go on about my business, trying to push all thoughts of the golden haired; soft skinned distraction out of my mind.

A noise snort from one of the stalls reminded me that I was supposed to be pitching the horses hay, and hand out rations of oats, but within moments I was lost once more to the thoughts that were roiling about my mind.

_Perhaps he's not all you make him out to be?_ The dark satiny voice purred.

The wicked image I wanted badly to hold onto and keep attached to him, I had to admit, seemed to be ebbing away more and more each day. He was supposed to be higher than I, a noble man in this society, yet I saw him far too often drunk as any common man, crying with common heartaches, and marked with common colors, just as I myself have been marked times over by hard hands. Perhaps these tiers of status that we were dealt into meant very little, at the basest levels. Perhaps titles are only titles, and perhaps well-bred blood flows the same shade as that of a mongrel. But those things I did not want to consider, because if he were on my level, I could care for him as one of my own.

_Do you not already?_

That voice spoke up again, and I growled, stabbing the pitch fork into the soft ground. It wobbled back and forth, reminding me of Christopher's trek across the uneven ground and I could not help but wonder if mayhap I should have installed him in my own bed until he slept off his excess ale. After all, I suppose it would not look so good on him to be seen tripping over his own feet and tumbling down the stairs, or to be seen once more emptying the poisoned brew from his belly.

_Is that the only reason you want him in your bed? Is it not the thrill of being able to run your hands over his silken skin and know that you'll not be pushed away? That your questing touches will be welcomed and urged on as his pleading whimpers fall like the most beautiful melody on your ears? Or perhaps you enjoy being the one to look over him, and care for him in a way others do not?_

_Of course not! T'is merely for his own safety and self image. _

_Keep telling yourself that pretty lie Matthew and mayhap one day you shall believe it. _


	13. Chapter 13

Chris 

Time seemed to pass slowly, but still it passed. My love and desire for the man I had once bought at market simply burned brighter within, the embers ever stoked with our secret rendezvous. Close to my heart, the dark haired man remained, and barely a moment could slip by that my thoughts did not somehow turn to him. Never had I felt so consumed with one thing, or one person, and sometimes to the point that it seemed as if my wits had left my head altogether, as if his earthy eyes held some spell. I tried to decipher his responses, mixed and varied as they were. I chose to hold close and cherish the moments when he seemed to forget the wrongs of our past, and let down his guard to trust me. There were times when I was sure I saw reflected in his eyes and mannerisms a cautious return of what consumed my soul.

So many nights when we were not in each others arms I found myself standing in the tall window of my chamber, the curtains pulled, looking down onto the servant quarters below. I wondered if he might be dreaming of me, as my dreams were always of him. Behind me the blankets of my bed would lay disheveled and cold, in the next room my wife, and the sounds of her affair with my footman so boldly touched my ears. I think at last she knew that I knew, and I did not care. Still, both of them seemed to get some perverse joy from rubbing it into my face.

Perhaps some time before it would have dealt me some sadness, as I wondered why I could not please a woman or have desires for such as other men did—but those thoughts were mostly gone from my mind, usurped by the love I held for Matthew. My previous doubts in myself seemed to dwindle away as I simply fell deeper and deeper, harder and faster, for this man who was supposed to be in my hand, yet somehow our positions had reversed. There was nothing I wouldn't do for him, whether he ever truly returned my affections or not. The ring upon my finger and the promises made before God to my cold, cruel, wife might as well have been made to him in front of God, Satan, and the lapping fire that surely awaited for a man of my so-called wicked desires.

Such a night has passed and as the pale fingers of dawn crept into my solar like thieves I felt rather than heard the footsteps on the floor and as I turned. I was made witness to an intimate kiss between my wife and Copeland. In the back of my throat bile rose and I had to turn from the sight. I knew in that moment that I had to quit this frozen place for at least a few hours, even if it were only to ride over the hills of my land, since I had finally made up with one of my horses. Like always that thought brought up the memories of the ride with Matthew over the lush hills, the feel of the soft cool grass on my knees and back and the hot skin of Matthew pressed against my lips and fingers.

If my soft sigh was heard by the tongue tied lovers they ignored it, in fact their efforts doubled and the moans and guttural groans drove me from the room in naught but my dressing gown. I was down the marbled stairwell to the barely warm kitchen where I crashed onto a stool, my face red from my wicked thoughts about the dark eyed demon currently housed in my servant quarters.

I propped my chin into my hand and watched as the pink rays of morning sun slipped through the kitchen windows, as likewise they had done upstairs. The color reminded me of the pink that warmed Matthews' cheeks when my lips touched his, or when my hands roamed slowly over his taut, tanned body. The more lustful desires were not the only things that pulled me to him, no there were things deeper and simpler too. It was such as the sound of his voice, or the spring of his curls when he moved, or the lively twinkle in his eyes. I sighed, turning my gaze to the door and wishing him to stride through it and toss me onto dining table. A slow smile crept across my face at the thought of the sturdy, carved legs baring the weight and motions of our endeavors.

Moments passed me as I sat there gazing as a silly love-struck girl. I knew the scene unfolding to my mind would not take place, however when the door creaked open my heart still sped and nearly hopped out of chest. The figure moving into the kitchen however was not Matthew, but Jezebel. Her face was tired and she yawned, her cap cocked on her head as one hand rested on her middle.

It was a posture I was fairly familiar with. I swallowed down my disappointment and cleared my throat, feeling slightly ashamed when she jumped and knocked into the large stone hearth.

"Ms. Piper, are you feeling well this morn? You seem to be quiet pale." It was another thing I picked up from watching, you could never make a woman talk if they didn't want to. If only my doting wife never wanted to talk! The thought was amusing, but the still silent lips of my kitchen maid worried me so I pushed it aside and got up, moving over to place a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Piper? Jezebel? Has the night left you ill my dear?" That question brought a sniffle from her and she turned from me, the errant cap that always found its way to the floor slipping almost completely off.

"It ain't the night that's done left me ill, Sire. It's the greetin' of every mornin' these days." She caught her cap before it tumbled away, and rung it in her hands. "I...Master Irvine Sir, if the Lady Katherine be to find out me situation I'm 'fraid for my place in the household--though I know soon I shan't be able to hide it no more. I'm tryin' so hard Sir to keep up on me chores an' duties or that wit--pardon me Sir, that wife a'yours will be havin' me tossed in the street. I can't have that Sir, not with a child readyin' itself to be born to me. Please Sir, take mercy on me."

Her words dissolved into tears that rolled slowly down her cheeks. The ire reserved specifically and provoked only by my wife arose hot within me, as I had taken her aside and told her many times to leave the running of my house to me. She of course never listened. I had ceased to have any say about my own affairs the day we were wed.

"There dear, don't cry. Jezebel, you've always been a good and faithful servant to my household. No one shall turn you out of my house. Come, don't cry."

I pulled her towards me, and she melted into my arms, her tears wetting the shoulder of my dressing gown. Behind me, a sharp cough sounded, and Jezebel hastily pulled away from me, her words frantically tripping over themselves. I turned to see my wife, her arms crossed over her chest, her hair a mess. I wondered and wanted to ask of her what had become of the panted kisses outside my chamber, but I bit my tongue once more.

"Christohper?" Her accusing voice fell upon me, as if I had done something wrong by comforting one of the objects of her torment. "Jezebel..." Katie hissed her name shortly after mine, narrowing her eyes. "Get you to your chores, before I see fit to reprimand you for your idleness."

With a nod she disappeared from the kitchen and I made the mental note to find Darla at some point and send her in Jezebel's direction. With a scowl I turned my full attention to my darling wife, my arms crossed over my chest as I held her gaze unblinkingly. She stomped the rest of the way to my side and glared at me, her lips curved in a threatening grimace. I wanted to back off, but I knew that if I did then I would open myself to more abuse to be heaped on my shoulders.

"That mealy-mouthed, alley-cat, whore!" Lady Katherine growled into my ear. Her hands roughly gripped the linen of my dressing gown and twisted it. "And you, over a year we've been wed and you can show no shred of affection to your own suffering wife, yet you welcome her into your arms so readily? What should I make of that, husband dear? Don't think I haven't noticed your late night forays. I'll be damned if my place is taken by that of a--of a--flea bitten rat! That girl is not but a louse upon society, the lowest of low. I should think a man of your standing would know better than to lay with the dogs!"

"Laying with dogs?" I couldn't help but scoff, her words amusing me greatly. "My dear, gentle wife, if anyone be laying with dogs it be you. At least the kindly Ms. Piper smells a great deal better than Copeland." It was a horrible insult and by no means substantiated, but the look of indignant rage that shadowed her face made me smile.

"You-you-"

Her screeched tirade was cut short when the sound of a deep throat clearing sounded from the door and Big Paul was standing there with a light blush to his face.

"Sire, I don't mean to be interrupting, but there's been a situation out in the stables. I think ye need to come take a look."

He trailed off and I couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach, immediately afraid that something had happened to Matthew.

"I'll be right along Paul.

He nodded his bald head and disappeared, his large back hurrying back towards the stables. With a growl I extracted myself from Katie's grip and all but flew behind the tall lumbering man. Relief washed through me however when I see Matthew standing outside the stables, a scowl twisting his plump lips as he kicked at the dirt. Upon drawing abreast I released the breath I didn't remember holding and cleared my closed throat. "What is it Matthew?"

"One of the horses has kicked through the stall wall, and his mounting the females." Matthew explained.

"Men, they're all of the same mind."

Katie huffed, having followed me out without my realizing it. I turned a glare on her, but she had already spun on her heel and flounced back towards the house. My fingers went to pinch at the bridge of my nose. The day had only shortly risen, yet already was giving me a throbbing ache in my head.

"Just...just take care of it. Paul, you are to repair the damage to the stable. Matthew, can you take care of the stallion?"

Matthew nodded, and both he and Paul went to tackling their tasks. As Matthew hurried away, I could not help but watch his body move, and wished we had but some time to spend quietly together. My thoughts were interrupted by giggles from Darla and a young woman called Sara who had newly been acquired to my house. It was then I remembered how inappropriately I was dressed to be out and about, and quickly made way back to the house.

Matt 

I watched Duke Irvine disappear into the manor and let out a sigh. Whether or not it was a sad one or a relieved one I wasn't going to examine closely to find out. The sound of Paul rummaging behind me pulled me back from my mental grumblings and with a slight growl I put my mind and back into the hard task of trying to separate the stallion from the mares. My own favorite mare was being mounted and the wild eyed stallion was nipping at me as I tried to get them apart.

A series of soft giggles caught my attention and with a waved hand in the direction of the animals I turned to see Darla and another small female standing at the fences, their faces flushed as they whispered back and forth. Darla must have felt my gaze because she looked up and batted her eyelashes at me, curling her finger in a 'come-hither' gesture.

With a head shake I ambled over and leaned against the rough hewed wood planks.

"My fair maidens, I believe that isn't the place for you." I couldn't help but laugh though as Darla's face scrunched up with a yelp.

"An why would that be, Matthew?"

"Any place ye be is a good place to me." Sara cooed, openly eyeing me none too innocently.

"The rutting of animals is not for the soft, delicate sensibilities of ladies."

"Ladies? Where be there ladies?" Darla glanced around, as the other woman smirked.

I could only laugh, and return the naughty looking wink she had given to me. I went about my task of separating the horses as the two women stood and watched, as if they were interested in the horses rather than myself. I was finally able to get them apart, and walked the aggravated boy around a bit, as he snorted angrily at my interruption of his pleasures. I wouldn't have been so happy either if some twit had pulled me away from a romp with Jezebel or Darla, or maybe that pretty new one, Sara--_or Master Irvine_.

I grumbled, twisting the leather strap of the horses harness in my hand as he came to my mind in such a way. I could feel his soft, warm hands on me, feel his hot breath against my skin, his ticklish blond raining over my face, the entrancing depths of his emotional blue eyes and his lips pressed against mine as I nudge his apart to taste--I shook my head, though part of me did not wish the images to disappear. In fact, there was a part of me that seemed to grow stronger each day that would rather those daydreams be very real. But, maybe he would come and pay me visit later that night. _You shouldn't think of such things, Matthew_. I told myself, and as if in agreement the mare stamped at the grass.

My naughty watchers soon grew tired of their voyeurism and truth be spoken a part of me was relieved to see them go. With a head shake I called out my declination to attend that nights poker game and blew a half hearted kiss to Darla and Sara as they both pouted prettily. Darla's red locks blew around her face as she leaned over to whispers something to Sara. With blushing faces they finally departed and I patted the stallion's strong neck, feeling more connected to him than before.

"Verily old man, if I were a horse you and I would be in the same pasture, too many mares for us to care for." He snorted and I wiped the warm mist from my face. He rolled an eloquent eye at me and I laughed once more before leading him back into the stable to see if Paul had been able to repair the demolished wall.

It had yet to be completely fixed. It was more wrecked than I thought it had been upon first glance. I led the stallion to a smaller stall and left him there to brood over his ruined fun. The biggest part of the day left was spent helping Big Paul with the repairs. I knew Duke Irvine was very picky and fussy about how things were done so I made sure it was done properly. Once the last of it was finished, the Duke showed up to look over it. He dismissed Big Paul with a 'well done' and then the two of us were left there, inside the still empty stall.

"Thank you Matthew, I am always pleased with your work. Your hands are very skilled." A light pink washed over his cheeks, and he was looking at me in a way that seemed lovestruck. It sent my heart pounding with both anxiety and excitement.

"Thank you, Sir."

My own words all but tumbled from my lips and I closed my eyes in embarrassment, the flush creeping up the back of my neck until it engulfed my entire face. The images from the earlier wanderings of my mind washed over me again and my eyes opened, startled when I felt the cool contact of skin against skin.

"What ails you, Matthew?" The Duke's voice was soft, the tone gentle as he moved hair away from my face, his fingers caressing the silken strands almost reverently before hooking them behind my ear.

"N-nothing m'lord."

His eyes, those jewel like orbs that seem to possess knowledge of me that I myself am not aware of, bore into mine. I wet my lips thinking that perhaps this was nothing more than the passing fancy of my mind, that I am the only one standing in the stall now. Another light touch to my cheek makes me jump and I swallow, my heart pounding a rapidly against my breastbone as I watch him grow nearer.

"Then it must surely be the day's trials that have put that faint red upon your face...."

"Verily m'lord if rose cheeks are an ailment then I must ask Sire, what is it that ails you?"

His lips quirked up into a faint smile.

"Matthew, I think you know. My heart ails me, and even so my mind at times too seems caught in some strange plague, wrapped up in a fever-dream. Do you know what I speak of?"

"I know not sire."

His lips turned to a frown and his voice became a whisper.

"I figured as much, Matthew."

He complimented me again on the work and turned to leave, his back that was once squared proudly slumped, and his step shuffled instead of the swagger that showed off his hips to perfection. Without think I grabbed his arm and spun him back to face me.

"M'lord, how can I know when you won't share with me what you speak of?"

His eyes grew wide at the way I handled him--completely out of line for my lowly standing to his--but he did not chastise me. He swallowed hard, and spoke again, very softly.

"Matthew, I...I fear you have captured not only my despicable desires, but my very heart and soul. I care for you in a way that I should not, but I can not hinder it. I love you as I should love the woman I am wed to. I have for some time now, truth be told. T'is been more than a years passing since we've been carrying on in secret, and nearly as long have I been captured under your sweet spell." He laid his hand upon the dirt-smudged linen of my tunic, upon the center of my chest. "I hope I have not been too forward, but you asked for my words, and I have given them to you."

Dumbfounded I could do nothing but stare, my mouth working slowly. I hadn't been expecting a secret declaration of love to come spilling across his lips. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but still there is silence. Once more he turns to leave. Apparently my silence is not what he wished to hear, or rather he doesn't want to interpret what my silence means to him and his confession. I know not what my feelings are towards him, he is an enigma in my mind, I hate him yet at the same time I crave his touch and his kind words.

"Sire!" The word is a yelped croak and it makes him turn back to me, his eyes shimmering. "Yes Matthew?"

Words once more fail me, so I do what first came to mind. I strode over and pulled him to my chest, ignoring the way he fit perfectly under my chin and as a voice inside screamed to stop. I bent down and kissed him softly at first, and then with more vigor when I felt him pressed against me.

Endless moments passed as I caressed the silken petals of his lips, my good sense running for cover as my hands worked of their own accord and gripped his hips. My fingers dug in slightly, the movement making him whimper and giving my tongue access to the sweet darkness of his mouth. Every touch between our bodies was as if lightening was striking us over and over. Before I could reign in my impulses, I pushed him against the wall and covered him, pressing our chests together so that we were one from shoulders to hips. His soft, pretty, hands were pawing at my shoulders and his small sounds were swallowed down, making my incomprehensible hunger for him grow. Finally my mind seemed to take control again and I pulled away, my breathing as heavy as that of a horse put through its paces hard then put away wet. My lips tingle as I wet them, my throat dry and making my voice a gravelly rumble.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I-I don't know what came over me. Please forgive my impertinence..."

"Why would I forgive it?" He panted, as his fingers gripped at the splintery wood of the barn he was leaned up against. "I was rather enjoying it...if you have not taken notice Matthew."

The color of his cheeks which was a warm shade of pink darkened redder with his words. His reaction to my intimate and sudden display was indeed bared in the light sheen of sweat over his face, and the simmering blue of his eyes, and more so where the soft fabric of his trousers stretched tight. With a shaky hand, he pushed some stray strands of long golden hair away from his face, but they simply tumbled back, and stuck to his pretty blushed cheeks.

What may or may not have been a purr sounded in my throat and I reached between us, palming the hardened flesh; my eyes watching each facial tick of his, and for some unknown reason committing them to memory.

"Then I know you'll enjoy this..."

T'is strange what came over me next, but I dropped to my knees and whisked the distended fabric down his legs. The bobbing, throbbing flesh beckoned me until I licked at the glistening head. Part of me was disgusted by what I was doing, and of my own accord at that, but another part, the part that was slowly becoming louder and louder each day loved it. That piece of me loved the way he fit into my mouth, loved the way he tasted and wanted more than anything to be doing what I was doing. I realized that I cared not if we were seen by the others, but it occurred to me that my Master might. I pulled away and stood, smirking as I started towards my room, knowing that he would be following me even without turning to confirm it.

Katie Lea

"Where could he be?"

I leaned up against the tall window, and scowled out into the forming shadows of late evening. All evening my husband had been absent from the house, not as though I missed his prissy walk or his preening mannerisms. I was only bothered because I knew he had not gone into town, his footman was sprawled out behind me on my bed, proof that my wayward husband was lurking somewhere on the property. Perhaps he had only went for an evening stroll through the orchard but I knew that was not so. I knew he was sneaking around like a thief, desperately trying to outsmart me in his games. His attempt can only end in a failure, as I will find out what foolish thing he's been up to. When I do, I shall lay my wrath upon him in much more than words, and he won't want to show his body to any woman after I've humiliated him with my fists.

"Just come to bed, m'lady." Adam purred from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and smirked at him. His position was simply sinful, and simply wonderful. My still warm body from our romp earlier began to heat again just seeing him eased back onto the pillows with his legs so boldly spread. He is such a fine, bold, man and everything he does excites me in ways my pathetic husband could never even hope to.

"In a moment." I said to him, and turned back to the window. I leaned onto it a bit, knowing he was eyeing my bare and perfect form. My eyes kept watch over the dim land for a few more moments, before I sauntered towards the settee and slipped my gown over my head. Adam quirked a brow at me as I moved towards the door. "I'm going to go and run him out. I'm certain he's seeing one if not more of those flee-bitten uncouth women in his employ." I shuddered, just thinking of the poor options presented in those dirty, common, alley cats.

I left Adam reclined on the bed and moved through the house, intent on catching my deceiving husband in the arms of that whore Darla or her constant companion, that simpering Jezebel. Her very name was quite fitting of her, as I am sure she is just as bad as the other. How—how could my idiot of a husband be more at home against the skin of a rat than next to my noble and beautiful body? My anger only rose higher and higher as I stormed from the house and across the lawn. I was intent on knocking down each woman's door until Christopher was found, and then he was going to wish his spineless being had never been birthed into this world.

Suddenly, a flash of white caught my eye, and I stopped. Rounding the corner of the barn was a small form I knew too well, and loathed just as equally. I moved upon her fast and seized her, dragging her into the barn as she wailed. I shoved her into one of the stalls and her eyes grew wide when they fell upon me.

"M'lady I--"

The palm of my hand rang loud against her cheek as her head knocked back against the heavy wood of the barn wall. For a moment her eyes rolled, and then steadied again.

"You little vermin, you dare not speak to me unless I bid you to!" Again my palm struck her, this time lighting the other cheek to a burning red, as tears spilled glistening from her eyes. "Now, tell me Jezebel, what are you doing out of your quarters at this time?"

She shivered and for the slightest moment chewed her lip.

"Answer me!"

With a whimper she moved herself into a corner as her tears fell harder.

"Yes'm. Y'see m'lady I wasn't feelin' well and I thought I might have a wee stroll un'er the moonlight to calm me. I've got a lot on me mind as of late and I didn't mean no harm, honest ma'am I was just walkin'."

"I saw you come out of this barn, don't you lie to me!" I grabbed her shoulders and shook her as her tears turned to sobs.

"M'lady please!" She wailed. "Please have mercy and be gentle, I beg of ye!"

"I have no grace for liars and dogs like you." I spun her around and pinned her to the wall, my knee held firmly into her back. "Now you tell me exactly what you were doing, and who with."

"I wasn't with no one!" She cried out, her fingers scrabbling against the splintery walls.

"Then you tell me, where is my husband? He's gone from his bed, dallying, and here are you fleeing the barn as though you've just witnessed a crime." I snarled into her ear.

She was quiet but for her whining and whimpering. I gave her ample time to answer, and still no words came from her quivering, pathetic lips. I fisted her ebony hair into my hand and jerked her head back, pressing my knee harder into her back until she fairly screamed.

"Please m'lady, please take pity! The child—please, please!" Her words trailed off into racking sobs. I turned her to face me, tilting my head at her streaked face and swollen eyes.

"Child?" I glanced down to her middle and there I could notice it with the way her dress was hanging on her then, a subtle lump that confirmed her confession. "Then dear, you must tell me. Whose child is this?" My hand moved to her stomach, gently touching. I could see the fear dancing in her eyes.

"The…the father…he…" She stuttered meaninglessly, giving no name, though I already knew it.

"Answer me! Answer me you wretched girl, answer me you whore!" I shook her once more and tossed her onto the hard ground. She rolled into a tight ball, weeping. "I have all night, and I will get my answer one way or the other."

"Matthew!" She cried out. "Matthew has sired the child, t'is Matthew!"

"You lie!" I dragged her to her feet and shook her again. "Liar! You've been to bed with my husband, my husband! That child is his child, and you've been with him tonight!"

"No! No, no! Not the good Master Irvine, I wouldn't never! Never!"

"You were with him tonight!"

"No!" Her scream cut through the musky air in the barn, and I set her to her feet. She wobbled and nearly fell over, able only to clutch at the wall.

"Then tell me, what were you hurrying away from? What did you see? Did you spy my husband with Darla? With Sara? Come, and tell me what you saw."

She sank down to the dirty, straw littered floor. I was sure the name I heard muffled through her palms and her tears could not be. She simply cried that name over and over, until a cold knowing crept down my spine, that she was telling me a truth that made my stomach turn. Shakily I turned, and left the barn. Her sobs carried on behind me as I seemed to move numbly back towards the house.

"My good Master!" She wailed. "Oh Lord, forgive me please!"

I moved back into the house and up the stairs, stopping only to notice Christohpers' door ajar. I could see his form curled in bed, he must have sneaked back while I confronted Jezebel, too lost in his own despicable sin haze to even notice her crying. A pleased smile was stretched upon his sleeping face, and I knew now who had etched it there.


End file.
